Boys And MEN
by umbrella0326
Summary: Chapters 1-10 by 'ilovesmesomeglee' - Chapters 11-? by 'umbrella0326' - A new student inadvertently shakes things up between Kurt and Dave, while struggling with his own personal hell. This story takes place in season 2, post-Kiss (no death threat). Completely AU with some OCs. Kurtofsky, with Puck, Mercedes, and Santana. I do not own Glee. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note -

Hi everyone,  
>Thank you to everyone reading this. It means the world to me. :)<p>

Ok let's get started.  
>I had this story in my mind for a while and I was going to post but my computer decided to not work anymore :(<p>

I am really truly grateful my friend umbrella0326 has put this story up for me. Thank you :) I truly am grateful for you and your constant support. :))) *hugs*  
>You really are a great friend.<p>

On to the story. Here's the introduction to my OC Adam. :)  
>I hope you guys like him.<br>This is mostly about him in the beginning. Don't worry – this a Kurtofsky story :). This is a personal one for me, guys.

Also a couple things to note regarding this story – everything that happened after the kiss, including even Blaine and Kurt's confrontation on the stairs, never happened in this story.

I think that is it? :)

Thank you again.  
>Please review and please be kind.<p>

P.S. I didn't abandon my other stories. I will upload as soon as I can.  
>Thanks for your patience.<br>Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Adam Porter hated luggage. It always took up too much space in their Honda Civic trunk. It's bulky, heavy, and just too damn frustrating. He never liked having to load up his car with his family's belongings, but they had to go. They just had to.<p>

Adam first loaded his mom's luggage, being careful not to damage her collection of ceramic owls. She stood there, watching him load the plastic container of her precious owls. Over and over, she finger-pointed every move he made, criticizing here and there his moves at making room for everything. Her schizophrenia was getting worse and he just couldn't seem to do anything right. Of course, that's the way mental illness can be. You think you're making progress only to realize that, many times, you can be right back at square one.

Adam sighed.

When he finally loaded up the trunk with his mom's stuff, next was his younger sister's luggage. Hannah, bless her heart, always seemed to travel lightly – one suitcase and one carry-on bag. And, his even younger sister Lilly traveled the same way, probably taught by Hannah.

Adam smiled. He was grateful Hannah and Lilly were considerate of his task.

.

Adam snapped out of his reverie. He didn't want to think about the two hundred, thirty –five mile trek from Chicago to Lima anymore. The move took its toll on the car, which was now a hollow harbinger of the future. Or, so it seemed.

The Civic's head gasket broke, cracking the engine block. The Civic was dead.

Adam sighed, as he pulled his DKNY, patched-up black shirt over his skinny, pale chest. It was perceived in his family to dress nicely when attending the first day of school at McKinley High School. A new school always presented new challenges – finding classes, finding your locker, making friends, joining any group that made you feel happy and wanted, etc.

Adam was buttoning up his shirt when he heard his sister call for him.

"Come on, douche bag! We're gonna be late!"

Adam sighed.

He finished dressing, grabbed two cereal bars, and left the house, following Hannah and Lilly already a good fifteen yards ahead of him. They practiced the walk the night before – McKinley School was a thirty minute walk along the city roads just outside of downtown Lima. They were lucky to have sidewalks to walk on the entire route, dotted from time to time with maple and sycamore trees.

As Adam walked, fresh aromas of falling leaves and chrysanthemums filled his nostrils in the early October chilly morning. He finally caught up to his sisters, which wasn't hard, thanks to his long legs.

"Nervous about the first day of school?" Adam asked. Two sets of heads shook before him, but he knew better. Everybody's nervous going to a new school, with so much doubt and presence of the unknown in front of them. Adam smiled a little.

"Well," Adam casually began, "just text if you're having trouble."

The trio continued to walk until Lilly had to branch off to go to McKinley's elementary school.

"Have a good-"  
>"Thanks, Dad!" Lilly teased, as she ran off towards the school. Adam smirked, but stayed rooted to his spot, making sure she got to the school in one piece. Once she entered the school, he had to run to catch up to Hannah.<p>

Soon, McKinley middle school was right before them, just a parking lot away from both the elementary and high schools.

"And you too, Hann-"

"You're not my Dad." Hannah coldly said as she strode off towards school. Adam sighed. He too waited until Hannah arrived at the school's entrance.

Slowly, it was Adam's turn to approach the high school. As he approached, he saw a student that caught his eye.

This student was huge! Brown hair, hazel eyes, and a McKinley varsity letterman jacket over his broad shoulders. Adam secretly hoped he had classes with this attractive guy. Adam walked faster to catch a glimpse of the last name over the back of the letterman jacket – Karofsky.

.

After leaving the school's office with a little map, Adam began looking for his first period class – glee. The little, useless map hung listlessly in his hand as he strolled down the hall, backpack over his other shoulder. Students passed him by, either staring at "the new guy" or ignoring him completely.

As he rounded the corner of one hall, he noticed there were no windows to show the beautiful, autumn morning sunshine. Adam loved the sun and could easily become a candidate for skin cancer caused by the light. Frowning, he increased his pace as the ten-minute warning bell blared in his ears. Jumping a little at the sound, he looked down at the map, trying to find the choir room.

WHAM!

His bookbag fell to the floor. His map became buried in the heap of notebooks and textbooks. Adam bent down to pick up his stuff, unaware that a Mohawk-haired boy was helping him.

"You should be more careful," the goofily smiling boy said to him. "Jerks around here wouldn't give two shits to help you after accidentally bumping into you."

Adam looked over at an incredibly beautiful, tough-looking guy, scooping up some of Adam's stuff.

"Thanks." Adam mumbled.

"No prob."

Once the task was completed, the boys stood up together. Adam noticed the boy's dark eyes and ornery expression. He thought bemusedly how he'd run into two very handsome boys and that this was one hell of a welcome to a new school. The other boy picked up on his smile and his smile broadened.

"Name's Puck."

Adam furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Well," Puck continued, "my first name's Noah and my last name is Puckerman. But people who fear me just call me Puck."

Adam's eyes changed to one of shock and surprise. After a quick moment, Puck couldn't take it any longer and doubled over in quick laughter. He recovered rather quickly.

"Just kiddin'." Puck said.

Adam smiled.

"I'm Adam."

"New here?"

"Yeah."

Puck leaned in a little conspiratorially, "You lost yet?"

Confused and amused, Adam responded, "Of course I am!"

Puck heartily laughed. "Well, don't worry. You'll get used to this place. What's your first period class?"

"Glee."

Puck's eyes widened in pleasant surprise.

"Really?" Puck said excitedly. "Me too!"

"Really?!"

"Yeah, really!" Puck said. "C'mon new kid. Let's go!"

.

Dave Karofsky was hot. The heat in the classroom was set too high for him. His letterman jacket, although a symbol of pride, was thick polyester and cotton. He had no problem keeping warm when he wore his letterman shield.

He was also hot because he was still angry. His dad decided to wake up with a hangover and a fist swung in his direction. But it was no problem for Dave. All he had to do was easily dodge the fist and casually shove his dad to the floor, while he made an efficient exit out of the house. Easy as pie.

First period calculus was almost over. He couldn't fathom why the school would set up such a complex class first thing in the morning. Even teenagers know that caffeine takes a while to wake people up to concentrate on such difficult subject matter. But he rarely had a problem keeping up in class. He had a head for numbers.

Soon, the bell rang and Dave Karofsky was up and out of his seat. He was one of the first to leave the classroom, eager to get out of the stuffy room and head towards his second period industrial arts class. Dave enjoyed this class. He looked forward to working with metal and the school's drill press.

The industrial arts classroom was located on the southwest edge of the building. Quite often, smells of burnt wood, metal, epoxy, and any other combustible material wafted into the school, despite the efforts of the massive ventilation system. Dave didn't mind these odors. He liked to play. What teenager doesn't?

His most direct route to second period took him past the choir room. In the past, Dave would tease the members of glee club mercilessly. He would peer into the room, making lewd gestures, smiling wickedly, or giving obscene, even sexual gestures. But this was the Dave Karofsky of the past. No longer interested in hurting people, Dave simply ignored the room.

A flashback of that morning's little shoving match with his dad set his jaw on edge. The damn flashback came out of nowhere and it heavily weighed on and annoyed Dave.

Angrily, he passed the choir room. But something grabbed his attention. He came to a stop, listened, and backpedaled a few steps until he was just outside the choir room doors. Then, he turned his head – everything in his world came to a screeching halt.

There, in the choir room, stood one of the most beautiful boys he'd ever seen, passionately singing his heart out. Dave stared unashamedly at the new kid, Adam Porter.

Entranced, Dave watched this new, beautiful, vulnerable boy singing "The Girl" by City and Colour. He watched Adam's throat and jaws reflex and retract with the aching, regretting loneliness of the agonizing lyrics.

Dave's mouth dropped, eyes cemented on the heartache flooding out of Adam's sweet, sweet voice –

And when you cry a piece of my heart dies  
>Knowing that I may have been the cause<p>

Dave had to get out of there. Fast! He wasn't prepared for guilt. He wasn't prepared for remorse. He wasn't prepared for sadness. He just wasn't prepared.

Dave ran.

.

No matter which public high school you attend in America, school lunches are always the same – a meat-based dish, canned fruit, under heated vegetables, and milk. It's a staple of nutrition that satisfies the USF&DA and parents. That's all that matters. Taste be damned.

Adam smirked, thinking this fact as he walked into the cafeteria for lunch. The cafeteria was an enormous room with vertical rows of tables and chairs. Students milled about, getting their food, sitting with friends, dropping trays on tables. Sounds of screeching chairs being moved, occasional laughter, and general chatter filled the air. Sunlight poured in from institutional-sized windows, only sporadically interrupted by partial blinds.

In other words, it was a typical high school cafeteria.

Adam quickly looked around, getting his bearings. As he spotted the line for the lunch trays and an area where he could sit, he heard a familiar voice calling out his name.

"Adam!" Puck yelled.

Adam turned to the left and saw a smiling Noah Puckerman quickly advancing towards him. Backpack over his shoulder and a lunch tray in his hand, Puck clapped Adam on the back.

"Come on! I want to introduce you to the Glocks." Puck eagerly said.

"The Glocks?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, the Glocks. Come on!"

Puck turned around and walked away, not even looking over his shoulder to see if Adam was following him.

Adam smiled. He thought, looks like I might have met a new friend.

He followed Puck down about four rows and then turned to the right, advancing about twelve more steps before he saw a group of fellow classmates. He walked around Puck and sat beside him, flopping his bookbag on the table.

"Everybody," Puck announced, still standing, "this is Adam. . .?"

"Porter." Adam supplied.

"Adam Porter." Puck said, still in announcer-mode.

"Um, Puck?" Artie carefully said, "we've already met him."

"I know that," Puck said, slightly annoyed, "but I wanted to introduce him to everybody as my new buddy."

Adam's head hurt. He looked at Puck in wonder, then back to the assembled Glocks with a polite, tight smile, and then back again at Puck.

Embarrassed, Adam quickly sat down.

"So, dude," Sam cordially began, "where are you from?"

"Chicago." Adam mechanically replied.

"What are you doing here?" Artie asked. "Chicago is, like, a million times better than Lima."

Adam was silent for a moment. Being an overall honest person, he had to think of a lie. The truth is simply not appropriate.

"I have family here." Adam replied. Well, Adam thought, at least that's the truth too. He watched several heads bob up and down, acknowledging the response. Relieved, Adam chose this moment to speak up.

"So, you guys are Glocks, huh?"

"Damn straight!" Puck said, his smile digging fresh dimples into his face, "And proud of it!" Puck quickly high-fived Sam and Artie. Adam was secretly charmed that the school allowed Artie Abrams to be on the football team. It really was a good, heart-warming move.

"So," Finn began, "what video games do you like?"

Conversation flowed easily. Talks flowed from the latest video games, to girls, to football, back to girls, to glee rehearsals, to the hate of someone or something called 'Vocal Adrenaline', and finally back to girls. Adam was grateful to be immediately accepted by not only one person (a cute guy at that) but a whole group of people that included jocks.

Adam was happy. He hadn't been very happy lately.

Soon, the bell rang and a horde of noise and rising teenagers bashed Adam's ears. Joining the crowd, Adam, too, got up, ready to head to fifth period history class. Throwing his packed lunch into the garbage can, Adam rounded the corner and left the cafeteria, secretly happy he didn't have the lunch served that day.

But as he passed another intersection of hallways, an awful smell flooded his nostrils. He turned his head to the left, in the direction of the odors and came to a halt. Students passed him, right and left, and Dave Karofsky was approaching him on the other side of the hall.

Adam wrinkled his nose at the odors – overcooked food from the cafeteria, burnt epoxy, and dust. It was a sickening combination that ruined his lunch for the day.

"What's wrong, queer?" Dave sneered as he walked by, "can't deal with what a real man does with his time?"

Adam stared at him, stunned. Dave passed by, a cruel smile on his face. But as Adam's eyes followed Dave, he couldn't believe the name on the back of the letterman coat – Karofsky.

Too bad, Adam thought, that jerk is cute.

.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - Hi everyone, thanks for reading. Again I appreciate it so much! Thank you to the two followers that followed this. You guys are awesome!

Thanks again to umbrella0326 for helping me post this. You are amazing! No words can describe how grateful I am. Thank you. You rock! I don't really have much to say about this chapter. So without further interruptions here is chapter 2. I don't Own Glee.

Please review. Please be kind. Enjoy! Thanks.

* * *

><p>The dinner rush was getting started. The special, "Spaghetti Supper" was selling really well and Adam was busy. Way too busy. Adam still couldn't get used to the fact that many people in Lima referred to dinner as "supper." It threw him off his game. But a waiter is always good on his feet. Well, the good ones are.<p>

Adam was assigned the tables on the far south side of the dining area, nearest the bar. Patrons, so far, had been kind and tipped well. Adam couldn't have been more grateful, even if he truly tried.

He was also grateful for the job in general. Since he moved to Lima, he was the man. Or, rather, he was the man of the house. As Adam assembled his order pad, pens, and apron for that night's shift, his thoughts drifted to his sisters and his mother. And, of course, his father. His younger sisters didn't know the whole story. Not many people did. Adam's job was essential, as the primary breadwinner of the house. Time and abuse changes many things in families, and Adam's was no different. After the move to Lima, money became an immediate problem. Lying on his application to Breadstix had to happen, despite the potential of a felony on his record. His alcoholic, unemployable, horribly abusive dad left in the middle of the night without a word, his mom's schizophrenia prevented her from working, and the sisters were simply too young. Adam's natural protective instinct kicked in and life began anew. He was the breadwinner. He was the makeshift dad. He was the impromptu husband. He was never a drunken abuser. He was. . .the man.

However, Adam's luck was about to change.

Marie, the hostess/manager, gave Adam a warning look as she seated two girls in the middle of his section. Touching his arm lightly, Marie said, "Be careful with those two."

Adam looked over. The pretty blonde couldn't have been much older than him and was very innocent looking. Her companion, however, was a fiery Hispanic girl, equivalent in age. Adam sighed.

Adam turned around and headed towards the kitchen to get his tray when one of the shrillest voices he ever heard slammed his eardrums –

"What does a girl have to do to get some service around here?!"

Several people in the restaurant turned and stared at the girl. A few that dared, glared at her. But Santana Lopez didn't care. Brittany just stared at the menu. Adam knew he was in for a long night.

"Why does the menu," Brittany innocently began, "make as much sense upside down as it does right side up?"

"Because, Brit, this is Breadstix."

Brittany thought for a moment and said, "Oh that makes sense."

A charmed look crossed Adam's face as he watched this exchange. It was lovingly obvious that the two girls cared for each other, which warmed Adam's heart. But he knew he was in for an interesting evening with these two. Purposefully, he walked towards their table.

"Good evening, ladies." Adam cordially began. Brit stared at the menu while Santana eyed Adam warily. "My name is Adam. Tonight's special is the Spaghetti Supper, with a side salad and your choice of biscuits or breadsticks. Can I interest either of-"

"She'll have an iced tea." Santana interrupted, still sideways eying him. "I'll have a Coke."

"An iced tea and a Coke." Adam gently confirmed. "Would you two like any appetizers?"

Santana sighed. "How old are you?"

Adam was caught off guard. "Ex-excuse me?"

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Uh huh."

Santana eyed him even more thoroughly. He tried not to squirm under her hawk-like stare. He thought he'd won the battle until he saw her smirk.

"OK, eighteen. Go away. We're busy too." Santana ordered. And with that, she gently took the menu out of Brittany's hand, piled it on her own, and practically threw them at Adam. Adam took the menus and left.

Adam thought, don't spit in her food, don't spit in her food, don't spit in her food, don't sp-

"Hey eighteen!" Santana hollered. Adam stopped, turned on his heel, plastered a smile on his face, and walked back to their table.

"Yes?" Adam patiently asked.

Santana eyed him again for a moment, and then said, "Oh, nothing. Never mind."

Adam never left a customer's table so fast in his life.

.

Over the course of the next half hour, Adam avoided the girls' table as much as possible. Friendly patrons came and went, leaving good-natured tips. Upper middle class families, wearing the best Sears fashions, ordered Filet Mignon and a bottle of wine, just to prove their wealth and status. Adam couldn't serve the wine of course, but the point was conceded.

All around the girls' table, evidence was clear that friendliness and politeness wasn't dead. It was only dead in the center, killed by a very determined McKinley High School teenage girl and her sugary companion.

Adam was briskly taking an appetizer and a refill of lemonade to a table just beyond the girls when he heard that distinct voice again. Adam inwardly sighed.

"Eighteen?" Santana asked, stopping Adam in his tracks.

"I'll be right with y-"  
>"Bring us the wine list."<p>

Adam couldn't hide his chuckle as he proceeded to his destined table. He dropped off the glass and appetizer, scooping up the empty glass in the process. He turned on his heel and side-stepped over to Santana.

"I'm sorry, but-"  
>"Yeah, yeah." Santana interrupted, nonchalantly. "I know."<p>

Adam hesitated, but couldn't resist asking, "Then, why-?"

"I just wanted to see your reaction." Santana responded, with a devilish look in her eye.

Adam smirked. There was something fun and funny about this girl. But there was another, much more vague interest in Santana that he just couldn't put his finger on.

"If your name," Santana said, looking away as if not really interested, "is really Adam, mine is Santana." Then she looked at Brittany. "And this is my. . .friend, Brittany."

Brittany looked up at him shyly. "Hi."

"Hi Brittany. Are you eighteen as well?"

Brittany looked at him confused. "Umm, no" she answered, with a bit of a snarky attitude, "I'm Brittany. Duh."

Confused, Adam just looked at Santana. Santana shrugged.

.

Soon, the girls got up to leave. And not soon enough it was for Adam. He was surprised to see a thirty percent tip. Even though Santana had angered him and Brittany charmed him, they had a mysterious level of respect for him, which he wholly accepted.

As they were leaving, Adam was required to bid them farewell.

"Thanks Santana, Brittany." Adam said as he passed them by. Adam breathed a sigh of relief. But suddenly, Santana came to a halt.

"Manager!" Santana called out just before she got to the door. From halfway across the restaurant, Adam watched the exchange between Santana, Brittany, and Adam's boss. He watched their lips move and heads occasionally turn towards him. He was well out of earshot and couldn't read their lips. The conversation amongst the three didn't last long. Santana briefly raised her hands in frustration and stormed out of the restaurant, followed by Brittany. The manager/hostess Marie glared at Adam and stalked towards him.

Adam gulped. It didn't take long for Marie to be standing right in front of his face.

"What the hell happened with her, Adam?" Marie demanded.

"W-what?" Adam exclaimed.

"She said you showed her a wine list!"

Adam sighed. He knew she would be trouble – and he was right.

Frantically, he walked through the restaurant, past the gracious patrons, past reasonable customers, and opened the door.

Slowly approaching her car were both Santana and Brittany, as if they were waiting for his harried arrival. And they were right. Well, Santana was right.

"Wait!" Adam called out, his hurried walking enabling him to catch up to a casually strolling Santana.

"Yes?" Santana coyly asked, slowly turning around, a smug smile on her face.

"Santana?! What the. . .?"

Santana simply smiled. "Oh, I just wanted to get your attention."

Adam looked at her like she was insane. "My attention?! You could've just asked to speak with me." He was a little out of breath, both from exhaustion and annoyance. The early evening cool air did nothing to help his heated body.

"Oh, I know," Santana calmly began, "I just wanted to talk to you outside of the restaurant."

Again, Adam looked at her as if she lost her marbles. He stared at her in wonder, waiting for her to continue. Finally, Santana explained a bit more.

"Look, eighteen," Santana said, "I just thought you could use a break from the usual Friday night insanity at Breadstix."

Adam chose this moment to cross his arms defensively. Santana's smirk remained on her pretty face. Brittany watched the show unfold.

A car pulled out of its spot and turned to head out. The headlights crossed her body from left to right, casting temporary harsh light on her beautiful tanned skin, making her hair glisten in the light. The car turned and left, leaving the trio in relative darkness, save for the parking lot lights.

"I just. . ." Santana faltered until she found the right words. "You're alright, eighteen."

"My name's Adam." he replied, a little flustered.

"Whatever." Santana continued unabated. "You have my respect now."

Adam appeared confused. "Your respect?"

"Yeah, respect. You could've lost your cool in there." And then Santana looked away for a moment as if lost in thought. "Others have." She smiled.

Brittany's phone was ringing in her purse. She turned her purse over and over.

"Sweetie," Santana said to Brittany, "open the purse."

Brittany paused and then opened the purse. She pulled out her phone. Just as she was about the answer it, the call went to voicemail. She frowned.

"Don't worry Brit," Santana sweetly said, "I'll get the message for you."

Brittany smiled at Santana. Santana almost appeared. . .gentle. Then, she returned her gaze to Adam.

"You're not really eighteen, are you?" she asked.

Adam said nothing, looking away. Santana gave him a knowing smile.

"You're alright, Adam." Santana said, suddenly serious. "You're alright."

And with that, Santana scooped up Brittany by her arm, got her in the car, proceeded to the driver's side, and left the parking lot. No fanfare, no further explanation, no. . .nothing.

Adam stood there bewildered for a moment before slowly turning around and trotting back into Breadstix. He didn't figure out what had happened. . .until later.

.

The next day, Adam was exhausted. He ghosted down the halls of school in the early morning hours. Caffeine could only go so far with him, trying to stay awake with only two and a half hours of sleep. He thanked his lucky stars that his first period class was glee. At least he didn't have to think.

On his way to the choir room, he passed a very sullen-looking Dave Karofsky. Given that the previous day's exchange with this angry boy wasn't good, he tried his best to ignore him. But something piqued his curiosity.

Dave's hand was bandaged. Adam noticed the bandaging seemed fresh and haphazardly applied. Little cotton strings dangled from the medical tape and what appeared to be fresh blood could be seen on the corners.

Suddenly, a hand covered the bandaged hand. Adam looked up to see Dave was glaring at him from afar. The boys passed each other without a word. Adam sighed.

Barely a moment passed when Adam heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Damn it!"

Adam whirled around to see Dave leaning against the wall, frantically messing with his bandages. He brows were furrowed, his face scowling as he shakily tried to fix the bandaging around his hand. Dave was getting nowhere fast. So, Adam made a decision.

He walked towards Dave quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention. The southwest corner of the school, where the choir room and industrial arts center were located, rarely had many students in the halls. Nevertheless, Adam silently approached Dave.

"Karofsky?"

Dave jumped a little and angrily eyed the beautiful singing talent in front of him.

"What do you want?" Dave asked, annoyed.

"Need some help?" Adam gently asked.

"No. I'm fine." Dave answered, wrapping a piece of gauze gingerly around his hand. Just as he made a rotation around his wrist, a strand suddenly broke free near his pinky. Dave snarled in frustration.

"Damn it!" Dave whispered.

"Here." Adam said, approaching Dave.

"Go away!" Dave ordered. "I've got it."

Angrily, Adam said, "No you don't."

Dave's head snapped up and briefly studied Adam. Dave saw the beautiful blonde boy's helpful expression and hated it. It annoyed him when he couldn't fix something himself and he didn't want this crooner solving his problems.

"No thank you. . .?"

"Adam. Adam Porter."

"No thank you Porter." Dave arrogantly said. "I've got it just fine."

Adam sighed. "No, you don't, Karofsky"

Standoff. Silence. The two just stared at each other, waiting for somebody to make the next move. Adam thought that confidence is one thing, but it takes bravery to ask for help. So, Adam took the initiative.

Adam took a few careful steps towards Dave. Dave said and did nothing, but surprised Adam by speaking first.

"Dave." Dave quietly said.

"Alright, Dave." Adam said gently. And then, he added, "Here. Let me see."

Hesitantly, Dave extended his arm towards him, looking away. Adam scanned the handiwork. It was obviously dressed by an amateur. And, in a hurry. Adam glanced at Dave, noting the strong jaw and deep muscles in his neck and arms. Adam swallowed before returning to the injured hand.

"Well," Adam said reassuringly, "this is an easy fix."

Dave, stunned, looked back at the boy. Adam correctly guessed Dave's perplexity.

"It is!" Adam confirmed. "Come on. Let's go to the nurse."

"No nurse." Dave glaringly insisted. Adam stared at him for a moment. He immediately understood. Dave didn't want any unwanted attention to his hand. All too easily, Adam understood.

"Then," Adam said, cocking his head to the left, "come to my locker. I can fix this."

Dave faltered with a confused look, shrugged, and then took a step towards Adam. Adam smiled.

Dave followed Adam down the hall towards Adam's locker. As luck would have it, Adam's locker wasn't that far away. Rounding the corner near the gymnasium, Adam stopped in front of his locker with Dave in tow. Dave was holding his injured hand, watching Adam's delicate fingers work the combination lock.

Adam, realizing he was being watched, simply worked on his task. He secretly loved being watched by this handsome, confusing, and enormous boy beside him. He couldn't figure out what this one, describing word was in his head about Dave – sweet. But it was there, nonetheless.

The lock snapped and Adam opened the locker. He fished around the top row, standing on tip toes to do it. Dave looked down at Adam's feet. The barest traces of a humorous smile adorned Dave's face, thinking it was funny that this cute boy had to stand on tip toes just to reach the top row. Dave suddenly looked away.

"A-ha!" Adam declared. Dave snapped out of his reverie and saw what Adam was looking for – a first aid kit. Dave was confounded.

"You carry a first aid kit in your locker?" Dave asked.

"Yup." Adam answered, distractedly.

"Why?"

Adam came to a complete halt. Dave watched, unaware that he hit a sore spot with Adam. He watched Adam's hesitation and instantly regretted asking the question.

"I just do." Adam said, just a little softer. Dave's eyes narrowed, confused by the answer. He knew there was more to this story, but decided Adam had earned his privacy. He let it go.

"Come on." Adam said, turning away from Dave and walking down the hall. Dave followed, still holding his hand.

Class still wasn't in session yet. Students were too busy, returning from the snack bar, chatting at lockers, boys flirting with giggling girls, heads down fiddling with iPods. You know, teenager life.

But Adam, followed by Dave, went relatively unnoticed. Soon, Adam arrived at the nearest restroom, which was unoccupied. Dave then entered.

Adam motioned Dave to the sink. Setting down his first aid kid, Adam pulled some brown, harsh paper towels from the dispenser and set them down on the counter top. Dave leaned back on the same counter top, turning his head to watch this fascinating boy prepare to treat his injured hand. A small smile of wonder and gratitude surprised Dave – nobody had taken the time to make sure he was cared for. He couldn't help but smile a little. When someone you barely know takes time out of his day to take care of you, you can't help but take notice.

Adam gently grabbed Dave's wrist and held it up in the air. He inspected the loose-fitting gauze, the irregular tape, the blood-stained edges. He "tsked" as he slowly turned Dave's wrist forward and backward, studying the situation.

He hesitated when Dave hissed in pain at one point. Adam moaned.

"Whoever did taped your hand didn't really know what they were doing." Adam remarked.

"Thanks." Dave said, sarcastically.

Adam looked up at him with an apologetic look on his face.

"Sorry, Dave." Adam gently began, "I have experience with this kind of thing and when you have a severe injury like this, you should have it looked at by a professional."

Dave scoffed. "And you're a professional?"

"Compared to you." Adam answered nonchalantly.

Suddenly, Dave pulled his hand away, glaring at Adam. Adam relented.

"I'm sorry, Dave." Adam softly said, "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just wish I was. . .wherever you were so I could've bandaged this better."

"No you don't." Dave said sadly. Adam stopped and looked up at him. Immediately, Dave turned his head but didn't walk away. Adam noticed how sad and minutely angry Dave was – and couldn't stand it.

"Don't worry, Dave." Adam gently began, "I've gotcha."

Slowly, Dave turned back and saw a pair of sympathetic, beautiful eyes. He instantly knew he could trust Adam to his medical care and possibly more. But not now.

"Whatever," Adam began, just as gently as before, "or whoever caused this injury, I hope they deserved it."

Dave said nothing. Adam got to work.

Adam began the tedious work of gently pulling the loose strands of gauze around and around and around. The task bored Dave, but he was fascinated by how into it Adam really was. He found he loved watching this beautiful artist who was now a medic. A soft appreciation for him was growing in Dave's heart and he knew it. He loved watching the delicate fingers gently yet firmly pull the gauze away. He loved how gently Adam would tug where cuts or bruises made him wince but not for very long. He really loved how Adam showed so much care for the purple, ugly contusions and elongated cuts on his knuckles and the back of the hand. He loved how gingerly ointment was applied and how expertly a fresh gauze was wound and wound and wound on his hand.

He, again, loved how that final piece of medical tape held the medical masterpiece together. In sum, Dave admired Adam. Who wouldn't?

"How does that feel?" Adam asked.

But Dave didn't answer right away. He was still mesmerized by this wonderful boy taking care of him. When Dave didn't answer, Adam looked up. Two pairs of eyes met and the beginnings of a friendship were apparent.

Dave smiled and said the only thing that was on his mind. "Better."

.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N –

Hey everyone! I am so sorry about the long wait!

This chapter kicked my ass and didn't want to cooperate with me lol! But I finally got it to where I am happy with it. ;)

Anyway I hope you guys are still interested. I would really love some reviews just to see if you guys like it. Thank you, Please be kind.

A special thank you to: umbrella0326. Thank for you for not only letting me post on your account but also helping me with this. Thanks for your constant support and helpful advice. I greatly appreciate with all you help me with. *hugs* ;).

Also thank you to the SIX followers that followed this and the favorite.  
>Thanks for the support. :).<br>You all Rock! :)

With that, If u have questions let me know.  
>Have a nice Day.<p>

I don't own Glee. Or Melissa Manchester's "Don't Cry Out Loud".

Enjoy!  
>:)<p>

Dave felt better. As he walked down the halls of the school, he noticed he made more eye contact with everybody. Fistbumps were commonplace and even a smile or two to some of the Cheerios. At first, he couldn't figure out why. Then, as he rounded the hall, headed towards the industrial arts center, he figured it out. He saw Adam in the choir room, hobnobbing with the rest of the glee club. The lingering, throbbing pain in his right hand had greatly diminished. He even held some of his books in it and could move his fingers with much more flexibility than before. He could even partially flip somebody The Bird. And all of it was thanks to the new kid, Adam Porter. He smiled at Adam as he passed. Adam eagerly smiled back. Yeah, Dave felt better... That is, until Dave's eyes drifted to the others in the choir room. With slightly terrified eyes, Kurt watched Dave pass by. Souring a little, Dave's smile faltered, but returned in full force as he returned his gaze to Adam. And, of course, Adam noticed this little exchange between Kurt and Dave. After Dave left, he watched Kurt bow his head a little, seemingly lost in thought. But pretty quickly, Kurt recovered, searing the room with that dazzling smile of his. Adam knew there was a story there, but didn't press. Then was not the time.  
>.<p>

In the choir room, Adam was busy meeting and greeting. He was cordial with Quinn, fistbumped Puck and Finn, and even had a sweet handshake with Rachel. A familiar, almost affectionate head nod, with knowing smiles, passed between him and Santana. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Santana's pinky finger holding Brittany's index finger, but he wasn't sure. All in all, the group accepted Adam. It was time to meet two crucial members, though – Mercedes and Kurt. "White boy, you need some solos." Mercedes declared to Adam. "Well," Kurt interrupted, "you'll have to try out of course." Adam could clearly see that Kurt wanted the spotlight almost as much as his counterpart. But behind the competitive spirit between the two, Adam could see they both had very caring hearts.

"Of course." Adam cordially agreed. "I do love to sing show tunes." He couldn't have said the most correct thing if his life depended on it.

"I do too!" Kurt excitedly said. "I love to sing anything from 'Rent'." .

"Ooooh!" Adam said. "And 'Les Mis."

"Yes!" Kurt's eyes couldn't have gotten wider. "You, my friend," Kurt eagerly began, "have just been accepted by yours truly and Miss Jones." Mercedes subtly nodded towards Adam as Kurt smiled even more. Adam smiled. He quickly realized that Kurt and Mercedes could become friends. He was right. All in all, things were looking up for Adam Porter and New Directions was a major reason for that. He needed this reprieve. His home life and job were just too stressful and happiness was rare. But not anymore. Adam couldn't help inwardly smiling.

It didn't take long for Adam to see that Mercedes Jones was one bad bitch – and an awesome, supportive ally. He loved her fiery spirit, fierce protectiveness, and forthright approach. "You know," Mercedes began arrogantly, "you just might be capable of keeping up with Kurt and me on a shopping venture at the Lima Mall."

Adam chuckled. "I'm honored."

"Macy's," Kurt proudly stated, "holds a special place in our hearts." Incredibly painful sparks shot through Adam's heart. He knew Macy's was well out of his budget. He would see those beautiful catalogs in the mail, full of the latest sweaters, corduroy pants, Polo shirts, and other gorgeous clothes and all he could afford was what was haphazardly available at his local thrift store. He deftly hid his saddened musings in favor of the elation of his new. . .friends.

Kurt and Mercedes shared knowing glances. Obviously, fast, recent memories were floating between the two and Adam couldn't have been more amused. Mercedes placed her hand affectively over her heart. "Well, you see," she began towards Adam, "Kurt and I love the Mall and. . ." she looked over at Kurt, a coy, tongue-in-cheek smile forming on her face, "we'd like you to join us."

Adam was instantly elated. "Really?!" And before Adam could even smile, confirming his invitation, Kurt and Mercedes smiled. Soon, little tufts of laughter fell out of their mouths as a new, friendly alliance was formed. Adam's smile couldn't have gotten broader.

From across the room, Noah Puckerman watched them, a curious, flirty smile on his face.

Puck was gathering his belongings – his backpack, keys, and another bag that oddly clanged and banged as whatever was inside pounded around. Adam didn't even want to know what was inside_ that_ particular bag, but was curious about the handsome, bad boy anyway. Jocks always know the other jocks and Adam was inquisitive about one other jock in particular – Karofsky.

.

Rehearsal over, Adam very quickly and easily picked up where tension and cooperation stood amongst the glee club. Adam hilariously mused that there was a lot of tension and very little cooperation. Rachel was a solo hog, Finn was the quarterback, jealousy abounded, and others found it all amusing. Adam chose to keep his reservations to himself and instead, focused on Noah Puckerman. The bad boy, having scooped up his gear, was headed out of the room in rather a hurry, but was stopped by Adam.

"Puck?" Adam asked. Puck stopped, turned around, and smiled at the beautiful boy in front of him. Being the sexually flirty man that he was, Puck unashamedly looked Adam up and down, smiling even wider. Adam deftly hid his eye roll.

"So?" Puck began with an ornery smile, "You decided to stay with us insane Gleeks?"

Adam could help but chuckle. "Of course I am!"

The two shared a laugh. An interesting tension stood between the two which distracted Adam for a bit. But he had a job to do and Puck was the first step in this process.

"Can I ask you something?" Adam asked.

Puck, excited that someone wanted his time and knowledge, smiled even wider and quickly answered. "Sure! Sup?"

"Karofsky."

It was as if a vacuum removed all the air in the room. Puck's smile quickly vanished and turned into a boyish frown.

"What about him?" Puck asked, looking away.

"Why does everybody. . ." And then, Adam stopped. He knew whatever Puck would say would be bad, but he had to know. He just had to.

"Because he's a douche!" Puck answered. He dropped one of his bags, but gingerly placed the other one with suspicious contents on the floor.

"Look," Puck said, in a more serious tone. "Stay away from him."

"Why?" Adam asked, completely bewildered.

"Dude," Puck replied, "whatever you've heard about him, it's probably true."

"I. . ." Adam sighed. "I haven't heard much."

"Well, he used to – Hey, wait. Why are you asking?"

Adam stood up straighter, totally unprepared for this question.

"Well. . ." Adam faltered. "I. . .I helped him out not too long ago and he seemed. . ."

Now, Puck was the one to sigh.

"Stay away from him." Puck answered, quickly gathering up his two bags from the floor. "I mean it. He's bad news. He's a homophobic jerk."

And with that, Puck started to leave. He was a good three or four steps away until he heard something that ground him to a halt.

"He treated me OK!"

Puck turned and stared at him. From this distance, the overhead fluorescent bulbs cast harsh light on the beautiful boy in front of him. Puck slowly took a step towards Adam, lost in thought for a second.

"You mean. . .?"

"Yeah," Adam bashfully replied, "Karofsky knows I'm gay. Or, at least, I think he does. And he was nice to me."

"Nice?!" Puck responded with a partial laugh. "Dude, don't get used to it. It's probably a trap."

And with that, Puck turned around and briskly left the choir room. Adam was even more confused than ever. But, of course, that didn't stop his thoughts about the thoughtful, sad boy who was so incredibly grateful at being treated so nicely, so respectfully. He quickly remembered how sweet Karofsky's eyes were – so full of gratitude and wonder. If Adam had an inkling that Karofsky was a threat, he wouldn't have bothered. Instead, he was more confused than ever.

Adam sighed and left the then-empty choir room.

.

The school day was officially over. Students were rushing through the halls and crowding at the exit, excited to get the hell out of school. Truth be told, there weren't that many students left at school. Only students who shared extra-curricular activities were still there, like athletes and glee clubbers. Nonetheless, everybody was rushing around and Adam was no exception.

He had his evening thought out in his head, like he always did – walk home, do homework, help prepare dinner, then go to work at Breadstix. The mundanity of it all didn't escape him as he sighed, pushing open the door that lead to the student parking lot.

And that was when he saw him. Karofsky was casually strolling towards his car, a few books in one hand and a football satchel in his other. He walked with an air of confidence that Adam secretly admired, his short hair tousled slightly in the autumn breeze. He was close enough to Karofsky to see that he seemed to be in a good mood. But suddenly, Karofsky stopped dead in his tracks, a frown crashing his features.

Adam followed Karofsky's line-of-sight. A good fifteen yards away, Kurt Hummel was rushing to his car, his head frightfully turning back a few times. Kurt was running away from Karofsky. For his part, Karofsky just stood there, frowning. It seemed he was letting Kurt get enough distance from him for his own safety.

Adam sighed.

He continued to watch Karofsky just stare glumly at Kurt. Very soon after, screeching tires could be heard as Kurt sped away from the school in his black Navigator.

But Dave still didn't move. Instead, Adam studied the sullen jock, completely confused by the scene that unfolded before him. Adam resolved to catch up to Karofsky, in hopes of cheering him up or something, when Karofsky suddenly, determinedly resumed his trek to his own car.

Something told Adam to leave him alone. But he wasn't happy about it. Sighing yet again, Adam broke off to the left to walk home, no longer watching Karofsky. He didn't look to see if Karofsky had left yet.

.

Adam arrived home. The little, two-bedroom apartment was a flurry of activity. His sisters had already been home, doing homework, watching TV, and trying to prepare dinner. Or, at least, that's what they said.

"When will dinner be ready?" Adam asked, dropping his backpack on the kitchen table.

"When you get done making it."

Adam didn't even look up to see who said the snide remark. Instead, he sighed and entered the kitchen, looking for the can opener and silverware. He was lost in his thoughts – the only sounds were arguing sisters and an occasional burst in volume from the TV. A minor argument broke out over what to watch on television as Adam grabbed two cans of beef ravioli.

He was uncomfortable. He was annoyed. He knew he had family tasks to do, but he just couldn't take his mind away from Karofsky, Kurt, and even Puck. His thoughts swirled around as he mechanically dumped the revolting ravioli in a glass dish, adding pepper here and there.

And that's when he heard it.

At first, he thought it was another argument in the living room. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw his two sisters frozen to the spot, their heads directed towards the hallway.

And then, he heard it again.

He knew what was going on. It was happening again. Adam sighed. And then, sighed again.

"Stay here." Adam ordered his sisters, as he turned down the short hall and knocked on his mom's door.

"Mom?" Adam asked as he knocked. "Is everyth-"

And then he heard it – _again_. Something was thrown against the door. He only hoped this time, it wasn't his mother's head.

"Mom?" Adam again asked, a little louder. "I'm coming in."

Silence.

No response.

Silence again.

_Here goes nothing_, Adam thought. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door, saw the flying object, and closed the door again, narrowly missing being hit by. . .whatever was thrown in his direction.

"Please stop. . ." Adam quietly begged. "Just. . ."

And resolutely, he flung the door open. Surprisingly, nothing was hurled in his direction. Taking a quick look around the room, he figured out why nothing was thrown at him. There was simply nothing within her grasp to throw.

Wild eyes met sympathetic ones.

A gaping mouth encountered a closed, saddened mouth.

A pair of arms flung at the sides while the other pair just hung.

The room was a tornado disaster area – clothes were everywhere, boxes from the move ripped apart, makeup kits vomited all over the carpeted floor. And that was just the beginning.

Then, tears. It wasn't clear who was crying first, but soon (very soon), tears were seen. And felt.

Adam slowly approached his mother, strewn across the bed.

"Mom?" Adam said, now standing by her stricken side, "Please tell me you took your medicine."

.

A half an hour later, Adam was walking to Breadstix. Well, not exactly walking. He broke into a run. The run, oddly enough, felt good. As he pushed his body to its limits, he mentally went through his list. He started a load of laundry, three family members had their bellies full (he could always eat here and there at Breadstix), and the kitchen was wiped clean. The only thing on his list that wasn't done was homework. Well, that's what study halls are for, aren't they?

He arrived at Breadstix. . .six minutes late. So, Adam did what he knew – he sighed.

.

Not even a half an hour went by before Adam received his first text. He knew what he was in for when he returned home. The texts were whiny in nature – this sister was holding this blouse for ransom. The other sister tried to punch the other. Each sister texted that their mother was throwing more things in her room.

Adam sighed. It was becoming his go-to expression. He didn't know what else to do to cope with the immense stress in his life. As he neared a table, scooping up the tip and waving the bus boy over, he received another text.

Angrily, he opened his phone fully anticipating yet another text from his family. But he stopped cold and even smiled at little as he looked at the sender's name – Kurt.

Happily, he opened it, read it, and frowned thoughtfully –

_You, me, Mercedes, and the mall. This Saturday at noon. Don't be late!_

Oh, Adam so badly wanted to go. He wanted to feel like a teenager again. But he knew he'd have to do something with his sisters. And, of course, his mother. He just couldn't be Florence Nightingale all the time. As his thoughts scrambled through various strategies of freeing up his Saturday afternoon, a customer stuck his hand in the air. Adam sauntered over, eyebrows raised in question.

"More Coke," the pudgy customer said, without even looking up at him.

"Like you need it." Adam quietly replied, taking the glass from the customer's greedy hand.

"What?!"

"Nothing, sir." Adam replied, turning on his heel. "More Coke coming up."

.

His shift was over. It was just before 1AM as Adam found himself slowly walking home. Truth be told, this was his only peaceful time of his normal daily routine. The moments he had to himself as he walked along the sidewalk in eastern Lima. He looked up at the nighttime sky, saw the crescent moon, and received no consolation for his efforts. Not that he hoped an empty sky could fill the emptiness in his heart.

So, Adam began singing. It was a habit he'd picked up very quickly from the glee club. He noticed that others often sang what was in their teenage hearts and Adam loved the suggestion. Of course, had he known what he was getting himself into, he might not have done it. But, his release had to come out. He thought of Melissa Manchester, then. . .

_Don't cry out loud  
>Just keep it inside and learn how to hide your feelings<br>Fly high and proud  
>And if you should fall, remember you almost had it all<em>

Exhausted and incredibly depressed, Adam cried the rest of the way home. He knew he'd have to get up the next morning – and, only had five hours to rest.

Adam sighed.

.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N –

Hey all! Thanks for sticking with my story. I introduce Blaine Anderson and Paul Karofsky here. No character bashing, but for now, they're not nice characters. They'll get better – I promise!

I hope you enjoy it all! And my thanks once again to umbrella0326.

Enjoy! And please leave comments (be nice, please!).

Eddie Porter. The name alone brought shivers to Adam's spine as he ate his Cocoa Puffs on the couch that Saturday morning. As he chewed, he looked out the window, squinting a little at the morning sunshine drifting through the blinds. The beautiful sunshine contrasted with memories of his father. Long ago, Adam had resolved that his father was simply 'sperm donor.' It helped him cope with the agonizing loneliness for a real father – one who stayed away from heroin, ruffled his hair when he got an A on an English paper, taught him how to shave…..

Adam shook his head. No, bad thoughts and memories wouldn't suffuse his mind today. Today was going to be a good day. He was going to meet Kurt and Mercedes at the Lima Mall that afternoon and have fun. He was briefly concerned about coming up with excuses as to why he wasn't going to buy anything at Macys or JC Penneys or anywhere. Even though Adam was an overall honest person, he could come up with excuses pretty easily.

He slurped up his milk at the bottom of the bowl, extremely pleased with how sweet and tan the milk had turned. The spoon clanged in the empty bowl as he set it on the coffee table, and sat back on the couch with a contented sigh.

Although exhausted, he was eager for the morning to fly by, so he could meet his new friends. That was probably why he got up so early that morning – he simply couldn't sleep because of his excitement. His bloodshot eyes and limp arms adorned his beautiful body, but he didn't care. He was going to have fun today.

He was so tired, in fact, that he actually didn't know how much money he had for today's venture. Rising with the empty bowl and clattering spoon in hand, he strolled over towards the kitchen. After depositing his bowl and spoon in a halfway-full sink of dirty dishes (of course Hannah didn't do the dishes the previous night!), he walked over to his bookbag and pulled his wallet out. He frowned.

Thirty-six dollars. Thirty-six dollars. Thirty-six dollars.

He just kept repeating the dollar amount in his head. So, Adam did what he did best – he sighed. The co-pay for his mom's Clozaril was thirty dollars. She would need her medication refilled in the next few days. So, Adam had six dollars.

Six dollars.

Adam sighed.

And that's when chaos erupted. Adam rolled his eyes.

It started with loud footsteps on the dirty, carpeted little hallway. A yawning Hannah and a grouchy Lilly stomped their way towards the kitchen. Each sister tried to push each other out of the way as they headed towards the kitchen for breakfast. Adam stood rooted to the spot, deftly putting his wallet back in his bookbag. He watched the annoying little exchange.

"Move!" Hannah screamed.

"You move!" Lilly yelled back.

"Shhh!" Adam loudly whispered, complete with a finger over his mouth. "You'll wake up Mom!"

"Too late." Neither sibling said this.

Adam's mom Lilly strolled into the kitchen in an old bathrobe, hair askew, eyes glossed from fatigue or sadness or something.

Silence.

His mom strolled through the room and opened the refrigerator. After inspecting the contents, she slowly closed the door. She didn't move. She didn't smile. She didn't even turn around for a long while. Finally, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Adam's mom, once a beauty in her own right, slowly turned around, walked through the room, returned to her bedroom, and closed the door.

Adam sighed.

.

11:45AM. Adam smiled.

He had two reasons to be happy that morning. First was the obvious – he was going to spend the afternoon with two very pleasant and slightly insane glee clubbers. His love of shopping was apparently going to be matched with Mercedes and Kurt, and roaming the Lima Mall sounded like fun. He'd never been there before.

Second, well, he made a deal. He got good grades. He was smart. And, he could do fractions. So, when Hannah realized that Adam would do her homework in exchange for his freedom that afternoon, she seized the opportunity. Sure, it might've been an amoral choice, but who cares? Adam would be free – free of familial responsibility, free to shop, free to be with his friends.

So, Adam smiled.

11:50AM. Adam leaped off the couch, screamed his goodbyes to his sisters and didn't even both with his ghostly mother. She may not have realized who he was anyway.

He briskly walked along the city streets in Lima, trying his best to admire the scenery. The beautiful sunshine and soft, flowing breezes invited him to deeply inhale various city smells – flowers, freshly cut grass, (a sneeze, of course), trash bins, even jasmine. As he walked along, he would see children playing in their front lawns with a ball or jump rope. Once, he saw a large and loving father swinging his daughter in the air around and around and around. Adam refused to be depressed about that. So, Adam walked.

As he neared the Lima Mall entrance, he crossed a halfway full parking lot. He checked his three-year old cell phone – 11:58AM. He smiled.

Then, he heard something.

At first, he wasn't sure what it was. It sounded like a wounded animal or the clash of a car accident. When he looked up, he heard the sound again.

Frowning, he looked around for the source of the noise. Quite suddenly, he heard it again. And that's when he discovered what the sound was – Mercedes. She frantically waved him over, with a radiant smile, calling out to him again. He never envisioned a voice could sound like that.

She quickly greeted him and invited him to a jewelry store. She said Kurt was in there, ogling necklaces. Again, Adam smiled.

.

It was as if the divine heavens opened up for Adam. He hadn't laughed this much and this loudly in a long time. In Macy's he saw a gorgeous sweater that was on sale and in his price range. But, he couldn't buy it, due to his mom's Clozaril prescription. He had to tear his eyes away from it, slowly removing his hand from the soft material. Predictably, Adam sighed.

He followed Mercedes and Kurt from store to store to store – and loved every minute of it. And there was another reason for his joy – Kurt and Mercedes didn't say one word or act oddly when Adam didn't buy anything.

Grateful. Adam was grateful for this jubilant afternoon and he didn't want it to end.

Citing 'thirst', the trio opted for the Cinnabon for some refreshments. Finally, Adam could afford something and he bought himself a Coke. Of course, Kurt and Mercedes couldn't help but indulge on a cinnamon roll and a Coke for each. Happily, they all sat down at a nearby table, occasionally commenting on this purchase or that unfortunately dressed mall shopper or that cute boy.

Adam's smile was hurting his face.

"So," Adam began, "which shirt are you going to wear Monday, Kurt?"

Smiling, Kurt dove into his shopping bags and pulled out two beautiful shirts. The long sleeved shirts were nearly the same color – green. He made a quick inspection of the shirts as Adam and Mercedes watched, sipping their drinks.

"This one." Kurt announced, holding up a light green, cotton/polyester blend.

"That one is very nice." Adam said.

"Ooooh, and it hugs your chest so well!" Mercedes exclaimed.

Everybody laughed at Kurt's sudden embarrassment.

"Oh, girl, shut up!" Kurt exclaimed.

"Well, it does! I mean, you –"

"Hey guys!" That statement came from another direction.

All three turned to see Blaine Anderson standing near them. He must've had seven bags in his arms.

"Blaine!" Mercedes and Kurt screamed, standing up to hug him. Only Adam remained where he was, slightly disarmed by the rich kid's demeanor.

"Oh!" Mercedes suddenly said, turning to Adam. "This is Adam Porter. Adam? This is Blaine Anderson."

Adam stood up to shake Blaine's hand. The two boys were eyelevel and cordially looked at each other.

"It's nice to meet you, Adam." Blaine nicely said.

"Likewise." Adam said, a little reservedly.

"Have a seat, Blaine." Kurt smilingly said, pulling up a vacant chair from a nearby table. As the seat screeched along the floor, Adam stole another glance at Blaine. He thought Blaine looked incredibly cute, dressed in a Marc Jacobs sweater vest and oh so soft-looking black pants. The kid obviously came from money and didn't hesitate to show it.

"So, what all did you guys buy?" Blaine innocently asked, sipping on a coffee that Adam didn't notice he had with him. Adam quickly thought how amazing it was to carry seven or so shopping bags as well as a grande macchiato.

"Oooh!" Kurt exclaimed. "I found these two very cute shirts on sale at Macys."

"And," Mercedes excitedly added, "I found these cute peridot earrings." She leaned forward slightly, tugging at her earlobes to proudly display the jewelry.

"Oh, those are nice you two!" Blaine said, "I love that light green shirt you have."

"That's what I'm going to wear tomorrow!" Kurt said with a broad, adorable smile. "Adam agreed that that's what I'll wear on Monday."

"Well, that's good." Blaine said. And then, his attention diverted to Adam. "And, what did you buy?"

Silence.

Mercedes and Kurt looked down at the table as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Oh," Adam casually began, hoping his lie would work. "I saw a sweater at Macys that I liked, and it was on sale. But," He then hesitated, but finally added, "I just didn't want it."

"Want it?" Blaine asked incredulously. "If you loved it, you should've bought it!"

Adam very briefly looked down at his hands before returning his attention to the rich kid.

"Nah." Adam calmly said. "I have enough sweaters."

"How can you have too many sweaters?" Blaine asked with a laugh. That got a nervous laugh out of Mercedes and Kurt, who both stole quick, inquiring glances towards Adam. Adam recognized this and tried to convey how grateful he was.

"Come on!" Blaine said, suddenly standing up. "I'm going to buy that sweater for y-"

"No!" Adam yelled. All smiles quickly vanished, replaced by uncomfortable frowns. Blaine carefully sat back down. But Adam continued. "I mean, that's fine, Blaine. Thank you anyway."

But Blaine was confused. "But, you love that sweat- OW!"

Blaine rubbed his knee where Kurt bumped it under the table. Mercedes looked back down. Adam hid a smirk.

"Let's just enjoy our drinks." Adam nervously said. Then, an idea hit his head. "Mercedes, let Kurt try on those earrings!"

.

His walk home wasn't nearly as enjoyable as his walk to the mall. In the late afternoon sun, Adam reflected on his experience at the mall. Mercedes and Kurt had been wonderful, accommodating, and, most of all, understanding. Blaine, Kurt's friend from a scouting trip to Dalton Academy, had been. . .well. . .a nice kid, overall. Rich kids don't often understand the struggles and pride of poor kids, and efforts to be kind come across the wrong way. And, that's what happened. Adam realized Blaine meant no harm, but just couldn't shut up when necessary.

So, Kurt to the rescue!

Adam briefly smiled at the fun and funny interaction at Cinnabon. That smile adorned his sweet face as he opened the door to his mom's apartment. And, as if on cue, the smile vanished.

"Hannah? Lilly?" Adam called out as he entered the kitchen. No response. So, he tried again.

"Hannah? Lilly?"

This time, a door creaked open. Scanning down the hallway, he saw Hannah peeking out of her bedroom door.

"Talk to mom." Hannah said, with a shaky voice. "Just talk to her." And then, she shut her bedroom door quickly. Adam sighed. He wasn't in the mood to deal with this today. So, he did as he was told.

"Mom?" Adam asked, while gently knocking on her door. But, when knocked, the door slid open a couple of inches.

"Mom?" Adam gently repeated. Pushing open the door, he saw his mother, sitting upright, facing the window, her back to him. He slid inside the room, but kept the door open. He was all too aware of how soon things could be thrown at him.

"Mom?"

Adam slowly walked towards his mother. She was still in her bed robe from this morning. Apparently, she didn't see the need to get dressed for the day. Hesitantly, she turned her head and stared at him. Then, her eyes went wide open.

"Eddie?" Lilly asked, excitedly.

Adam frowned. "No, mom. It's your son, Adam."

Lilly squinted her eyes, studied her son for a moment, and then concluded.

"No! It's you! Eddie!" Lilly rose from her seat on the bed and, with arms wide open, advanced towards Adam.

"No mom!" Adam roared. Lilly came to a sudden halt. "It's Adam! Your _son!_" Oh no. Not tears. Adam couldn't cry now. Not after the wonderful afternoon he had that day. No. Tears simply would not do!

Lilly blinked a few times, studying the beautiful son in her bedroom.

"Adam?" Adam nodded. "Where have you been, young man?!"

Adam sighed.

.

Adam had only been at work for about two hours and only had twelve dollars in tips. It's amazing how patrons can be such cheapskates. He was sure most of those patrons had never waited tables before and couldn't understand the sheer trauma of it all! But, Adam was coming to the conclusion that Lima, Ohio was just cheap. Well, except for Blaine Anderson!

As Adam was clearing off a table, he looked up and was astonished to see David Karofsky with an elderly gentleman. It didn't take long for Adam to see that the stocky, bearded man next to David was his father. David and Adam made eye contact. Suddenly, no one else was around. They just stared into each other's eyes, conveying way too much emotion and passion for one brief moment.

Both boys blinked, aware that something. . .something important just happened. But neither boy understood what that was. They nervously smiled at each other from across the restaurant as the elderly man next to Dave motioned for him to walk to their table.

And, as luck would have it (or divine intervention), the hostess seated the two in Adam's section. Dave and Adam barely took their eyes off each other. In fact, it seemed to Adam that there was a certain level of _comfort_ in their eyes. Adam had just the barest trace of a smile on his face. And then, so did Dave.

Shaking his head a little and wiping his hand across his face, Adam advanced towards their table. Dave's smile broadened a little.

"Hello gentlemen!" Adam said, almost excitedly. "Hello David."

The elderly man suddenly looked up at Adam and when he looked back, Adam was devastatingly astonished. Instantly, there was something that Adam didn't like. In fact, he felt repulsed. Quickly, he returned his gaze back to Dave and was surprised when Dave's sweet face was crushed away, replaced by a nervous frown.

Oh, Adam was so uncomfortable!

"C-can I get you b-both something to drink?"

"I'll have an iced tea." The elderly man said. "Dave?"

"Adam, could I have a Coke, please?" Dave was so sweet in his question that Adam couldn't help be smile.

"Of course, Da-"

"You two know each other?" the elderly man rudely asked.

"Oh, yes sir!" Adam enthusiastically responded. "Dave and I go to school together."

"Oh."

Silence. An ugly moment hovered in the air and Adam wanted that sweet feeling back.

"Adam, this is my father, Paul."

Adam turned to Paul. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Likewise." Paul responded, scanning the menu already placed on the table, and didn't even look up.

Dave frowned. Adam smiled. Then, Adam left.

Soon, Adam returned with their drinks and took their order. They both ordered lasagna. But as Adam was leaving, he heard Dave say something to his dad.

"Dad? I have to go to the restroom."

"Hurry back." Paul said, in an unfriendly way.

Dave stood and started walking towards the men's restroom. But as Adam returned to the outside prep station, Dave motioned for Adam to follow him. So, he did.

Dave stood outside the restroom door, a sullen look on his face. Adam instantly hated it, as he approached him.

"Dave?" Adam gently asked. "Did I offend your dad?"

Dave frowned even harder. "No." Dave growled. "He's just a rude son of a bitch."

Adam wanted to comfort this enormous, sad jock, but just didn't know him well enough to do something like that. But still, the desire was there. He just wanted to place his hand on Dave's shaking forearm – _anything_ to soothe his pain.

"Dav-"

"Adam, if I tell you something, will you keep it a secret?" Oh, the sadness and hope in Dave's eyes could've bowled Adam over! He couldn't stand seeing this enormous jock so. . .so vulnerable. He quickly studied Dave and wondered if he should delve into this boy's life. But Dave was so scared suddenly and still so attractive. So, Adam came to the only conclusion he could think of, the only proper and appropriate course of action.

"Yes."

.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N –

Hey everybody! Thanks for liking my story and, of course, thanks once again to my friend umbrella0326 for posting this story for me.

I really love Disney films and wanted to incorporate one of them in some way into this story. So, I hope you'll LOVE what I used – it's too goofy!

Enjoy! And please review – but, be kind, please. And my thanks to garethglee14. You're awesome!

* * *

><p>"What is it Dave? You can tell me. Are you O-"<br>Adam was cut off when Dave looked back up at Adam with a heart wrenching expression on his face. Adam could've cried for Dave right then and there! And he had come close to tears but he stopped himself. This wasn't about him...  
>Dave had been staring at the ground for agonizing moments. Adam hated seeing this proud, strong jock in pain. In fact, Dave wasn't speaking or moving a muscle. It was dead silence except for the rowdy noise from the customers around the corner from outside the men's rest room at Breadstix. None of that mattered to Adam though. All that mattered at that moment was this cute, sad boy who needed to confide in someone. Adam was secretly glad Dave chose him to keep something between just them. He was honored that Dave chose to open up to him. He wasn't sure if Dave ever open up to anyone before.<br>The only noise that can be heard between the boys was Dave's heavy breathing. It was obvious Dave was upset. Now all Adam had to do was figure out why Dave was behaving this way.  
>The glee club newcomer became worried the moment when Dave asked if he could keep something between them.<br>The jock looked so hurt and lost with bags under his eyes due to lack of sleep. Adam couldn't deny Dave this moment. Even if they hardly knew each other Adam was determined to be a shoulder to lean on if Dave wanted it. And to Adam he looked as though he did. That was enough for Adam to want to wash away Dave's pain.  
>Adam has always been that way. He was always the one person everyone in his life who mattered seemed to turn to when they were in need or had a problem they wanted help with. So it's only natural to Adam to want to help Dave with his problems. Adam always put everyone's needs and concerns before his own.<br>He does it with his sisters, his mom and his friends back home...  
>Adam shook his head away from the memory of his former life where he was so carefree. He can't go back to Chicago... He can't. And thinking about his two best friends back home wasn't helping.<br>_Where did that come from?_ Adam thought to himself, thinking about that abrupt memory.  
>Adam once again shook his head, deciding those thoughts were irrelevant at the moment and he should really be focused on Dave.<br>Adam turned his attention back to Dave.  
>"Dave?" Adam gently began, "You can tell me-"<br>"Porter!" That came from elsewhere.  
>Both boys turned to see the manager glaring at Adam. Adam knew what it was about and absolutely hated the bad timing.<br>"Dave," Adam gently began again, "I'm so sorry but I have -"  
>"I know." Dave softly interrupted. "Go."<br>Adam hesitated. He eyes drifted from his angry manager to the torn jock and back. Sighing, he briefly touched Dave's arm as he passed by him. But before he left, he stopped. Or, rather, he was stopped.  
>Dave suddenly grabbed Adam's wrist. Adam stared down at it like something like this had never happened before. Dave's grip was harsh, almost desperate.<br>"Meet me," Dave whispered, "tomorrow at the bleachers. After your. . .last period or something."  
>Adam congenially smiled. "Of course, David. I'll be there."<br>And with that, Adam left. He couldn't stand seeing this enormous, cute jock in pain. He so badly wanted to know what was so leadenly placed in his heart. But duty was calling and duty could be very impatient. Sighing, Adam left to attend to his waiter duties. He had seven tables – five of which all needed refills or something.

.

Adam had had it. Normally, he didn't mind hanging out with the other waiters on break, tolerating their second hand smoke and annoying conversations about customers or boyfriends or the manager or girlfriends or whatever. Nope. Adam was done with that. He had way too many other things to consider –  
>His mom<br>His sisters  
>His future<br>His job  
>His finances<br>Dave  
>And that was it. The last one threw him for a loop. He didn't know what to make of this handsome jock, searching him out for solace when they barely knew each other. Adam couldn't make sense of it. He desperately wanted to get close to the jock, but had to be careful. Interest in men could and would just be that. He wanted to help David – but he didn't want to offend a man who was straight. Or, at least, Adam thought he was straight. Little did he know.<br>As he returned from break and mechanically went about his business at work, his mind often drifted back to those sad eyes, that sad expression, those enormous and supportive shoulders and biceps, that huge torso…..  
>Adam shook his head. He had to make it through his shift without an erection. Besides, he cared for Dave. And Dave needed him. So, of course Adam would be there.<br>He made a mental note – bleachers, after school, tomorrow. . .Dave.

.

Trust. What a hard commodity these days. Adam just wasn't sure whom he could trust these days. He hardly could trust his sisters and mother in a variety of ways. Kurt and Mercedes? Possibly.  
>Dave. And then, there was Dave.<br>This mysterious, cute, interesting, absolutely fascinating boy who took a liking to the glee boy Adam was confusing and….. well, Adam just didn't know.  
>So, of course, after school, Adam was the first to arrive at the visitor's side of the bleachers at McKinley's football stadium.<br>Bracing the slight chill in the air, he curled his patched pea coat closer around his thin torso, awaiting David's arrival. The cloudy, almost threatening sky seemed like a foreshadow of things to come, but Adam would have none of that. Something told him that Dave could be trusted, especially since Dave wanted to share something with him.  
>Minutes passed. Then, ten minutes passed. Adam began to get frustrated. Annoyed, he reached inside his backpack for his cell phone and fired off a quick text –<br>'where r u?'  
>He sent the text. He didn't have long to wait for a reply.<br>'rite across from u'  
>Perplexed, Adam wildly looked around and around. He didn't know what Dave meant by that. Suddenly, he heard a yell from across the stadium. There, in the middle row sat David Karofsky, outfitted in his letterman jacket, with an ornery grin on his face.<br>Yes, Adam Porter was annoyed that Dave had been sitting in the bleachers of the 'home' section of the stadium, but didn't know why.  
>'get over here!'<br>Dave looked at his phone. After reading it, he belly-laughed, rich and hearty. Even from that distance, Adam could see the radiance, the beauty, the sheer good-humored smile on this fascinating jock.  
>Still laughing, Dave quickly emerged from the home stands and jogged across the football field. It didn't take long for the athletically-trained jock to cross the football field, hop the security fence, enter the visitor's side bleachers and quite quickly, sit right beside Adam.<br>"You didn't say which side-!"  
>"I know!" Dave declared, a boyish, happy, Cheshire-cat grin on his face.<br>Adam made an annoyed sound, which prompted an overly hilarious laugh from Dave.  
>Adam found he loved Dave's laugh. Who wouldn't? Dave quickly found a seat, just two feet away from Adam. The early evening sunset was fast approaching, blasting harsh light on the boys. Adam found Dave's hazel eyes, still twinkling a little from the sunset and good humor, absolutely beautiful. Dave suddenly realized Adam intently staring at him. Adam suddenly looked down, coughing a little. Amused, Dave simply looked down.<br>So, there they were – two boys with the beginnings of an awkward conversation. But, time was of the essence. Unfortunately, Adam had to get to work within the hour. He had a family to raise, after all.  
>"So. . ."Adam tenderly began, looking down.<br>"Yeah. . ." Dave tentative answered.  
>Silence. The amused atmosphere whooshed away, replaced with a ferocious tension. Something had to be done. So, of course, Adam had to break it.<br>"Dave?"  
>"Yeah?"<br>"I know you have something. . .important to tell me. And," And here's where Adam hesitated. He wasn't sure how exactly to handle this situation until blunt honesty took over.

"Would you mind if I shared something with you? You know, to help me trust you as much as. . .you want to trust me with. . .whatever's on your mind?"  
>Dave stared at him. Nobody had ever asked him to keep a secret before. His overwhelming sense of duty and honesty won over. Why wouldn't it?<br>"Of course." Dave quietly answered, turning on the aluminum bleachers to face him. "You can tell me anything and it'll be. . .our secret."  
>And there it was. The golden key. Adam turned to Dave with a radiant smile that made Dave almost want to lean over and kiss him. But he couldn't. He just. . .couldn't.<br>"O-OK." Adam said. _Damn, which secret should I tell him?!_ Adam thought. He hesitated. He was torn. He had so many secrets he just didn't know where to begin. But, Dave reached out to him and, yet, seemed like he needed an exchange of secrets. Perhaps they had some common bond?  
>"M-My father. . ." Adam began.<br>Dave's eyes widened as he scooted ever so closer.  
>"M-m-my. . .dad. . ." Adam tried to begin, again. But, no words came out. And that's when it happened. Suddenly, Adam found himself engulfed in a letterman jacket's arms. Adam simply disappeared.<br>Tears exploded out of Adam. Dave simply held him. Nothing else. Adam cried and cried and cried. The months and months of love, support, and financial burden all flopped on one letterman coat. Dave didn't move – or release Adam.  
>Adam tried to pull back, but found it impossible, imprisoned by the surprising and loving support from one David Karofsky. Adam found that Dave would be a confidant from this point on.<br>"I know. . ." Dave whispered, his words just an inch from Adam's shaking form. "I know. . .me too."  
>This got Adam's attention. Adam tried to pull back, but Dave's tank-like arms wouldn't budge. So, Adam tried again and Dave got the message. Slowly, ever so slowly, Adam pulled back, Dave's arms still, in some way touching Adam. They were suddenly so. . .intimate.<br>Dave's arm slid from Adam's back, over his shoulder, and somehow found its way to Adam's face. Dave, heavily concerned, gently stroked Adam's cheek. The moment was tender, sweet. Dave studied Adam's cheek, his lips, and finally his eyes. Adam fell into the engaging embrace – he so longed for tenderness from a man. He needed it. And Dave was so passionately providing it!  
>Suddenly, Dave realized what he was doing and pulled away. Adam frowned.<br>"You too?" Adam asked.  
>And, for the first time in David Karofsky's life, he came clean.<br>"Yeah."  
>A sudden breeze lifted the boy's hair, flashing brilliant foreheads on relieved heads. It was as if nature itself released a mountain of pressure off the boy's shoulders. The boys didn't know it, but they were relieved.<br>Cute, little, embarrassed smiles occupied their faces then. And it didn't dawn on either one of them what they truly meant when Adam asked that question.  
>And that's when they heard something annoying. Something alarming. An alarm.<br>Adam looked at his cell phone. His alarm was telling him it was time to go.  
>"Dave, I'm so sorry, but I-"<br>"Want a ride to work?" Dave excitedly asked. The relief that flooded over him made him overly eager to provide for this vastly interesting gleek. Adam looked at Dave's face, staring at how the early evening sun cast beautiful light on the left side of his face, while his other side, still smiling, didn't hold back on the confidence and much-needed reprieve.  
>"Thanks Dave." Adam enthusiastically responded.<br>Suddenly, Dave bolted upright, extending a hand to Adam. Adam slowly took it, guiding himself up. Soon, both boys were walking together, headed towards Dave's car, headed towards Breadstix for work, headed towards. . .well, they weren't quite sure yet. But the future was suddenly looking bright – brighter than the early evening sun could provide.  
>Both boys smiled. And walked. And smiled. And walked.<p>

.

"Tevin Campbell?!"

Neither boy knew who said it first, but when 'Stand Out' came on Lima's only pop radio channel, hysterical laughter filled the car. Windows were halfway down, hair was flying, and they were driving into the early evening sun.

Wonderful boyish laughter – is there a better sound?

Adam was pleasantly surprised to hear Dave belting out the lyrics with a wonderful baritone –

_Once you're watching every move that I make  
>You gotta believe that I got what it takes<em>

Adam was thrilled and didn't hide it.

"Disney?!" Adam shrilled. Dave, goofily smiled and nodded.

"Yup. Hey, it's badass!"

Insane laughter once again filled the car. They smiled at each other yet again and continued singing the song. And just when the song ended, the Breadstix sign could be seen in the near horizon.

Adam sighed. He didn't want to leave Dave. Who would? Dave pulled into Breadstix and parked in the handicapped parking spot. He wasn't staying and knew he wouldn't get in trouble.

As soon as Dave put the car in Park, he looked over to see Adam's audacious face, smiling back at him. They simply smiled – no words needed. Then, Dave briefly nodded to the front entrance of the restaurant and Adam subtly looked down. But neither boy's smiles went away. They were so happy!

Adam emerged from Dave's car with a final wave. As soon as Adam was standing on the sidewalk, Dave gave his own final wave and drove off. Adam couldn't stop smiling even if he wanted to. He turned and entered Breadstix.

"Eighteen!"

Adam's smile fell completely off his face. He slowly turned and, upon seeing Santana's smirk as she waited to be seated in his section, he headed towards the prep station.

_Well, at least she tips well_, Adam thought.

.


	6. Chapter 6

AN –

Hey guys! What's this? Another chapter?! Ha,ha!

This is the shortest chapter I've ever written. But there's a method to my madness, everybody! I do not own Glee or any music being used here. The idea for Santana's song choice came to me because I love Rent. I've never seen the play but I love the movie :).

I really wanted Glee to give Santana this song on the show. :)

Adam has a horrible day, so you've been warned. Plus, we greet a new character.

And, once again, hi garethglee14!

But for now thank you umbrella0326 :)  
>You rock!<p>

With that enjoy! Please review please be kind :)

* * *

><p>Adam never understood why glee in McKinley High School was first period. Even teenagers need to wake up and caffeine can only go so far. Strapping his bookbag over his right shoulder, Adam slowly wobbled into glee rehearsal into the usual situation – the gleeks were in chaos.<p>

Finn was arm wrestling with Puck, Quinn was making kissy faces with Sam, Santana and Brittany were chatting amongst themselves, Kurt was unusually quiet, Mercedes was checking her makeup, Rachel was intensely studying sheet music, and Tina and Mike were making out. Only Artie seemed to notice Adam's arrival. He nodded towards the new gleek and that was it.

Adam found a seat on the first riser, next to Artie. The two briefly looked at each other before they both turned and watched the teenage show around them. Apparently, they were the only two that were affected by the early morning rehearsal. They simply weren't awake enough to participate in the rowdy surroundings.

Of course, Adam was working on four hours of sleep. He never complained though. He couldn't. After all, he had a family to support.

"OK!" Mr. Shuester said, breezing into the room, "I want to go over this week's assign-"

"Mr. Shue?"

All heads turned to see who interrupted him. It wasn't just a few pair of eyes that leaped in surprise to see Santana Lopez stop him.

"Yes, Santana?"

"I want the floor."

Everybody but Brittany stared at Santana in surprise.

"Umm," Mr. Shue confusedly began, "OK. The floor's yours."

Santana breezed down to the center of the room, turned, and almost glared at Adam. Unnerved by her sudden, intense staring, he bolted upright. Adam was now wide awake.

"I need," Santana coolly began, "to send. . .a message." She never took her eyes off Adam. Everybody in the room stared at him. Adam's eyes couldn't have been wider.

Santana nodded to the glee band and the room exploded with an upbeat number –

_What's the time?  
>Well it's gotta be close to midnight<br>My body's talking to me  
>It says, Time for danger<em>

_It says, I wanna commit a crime  
>Wanna be the cause of a fight<br>I wanna put on a tight skirt  
>And flirt with a stranger<em>

_I've had a knack from way back  
>At breaking the rules once I learn the game<em>

_Get up!_

And right at that moment, Brittany leaped from her chair and joined Santana, as they spun around together, hands held tightly.

_Life's too quick, I know someplace sick  
>Where this chick'll dance in the flames<em>

_We don't need any money  
>I always get in for free<br>You can get in too  
>If you get in with me<em>

_Let's go out tonight_

Santana bored holes into Adam's eyes, clearly sending the message that Adam's evening would one day be consumed by one Santana Lopez. And as the song went on, Adam found himself being swept up by Brittany and included in the routine!

_Let's go out tonight  
>I have to go out tonight<br>You're sweet, wanna hit the street?  
>Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?<br>Just take me out tonight_

_Please take me out tonight  
>Don't forsake me, out tonight<br>I'll let you make me out tonight  
>Tonight, tonight, tonight<em>

Adam, breathless after being swung around and around with a huge smile on his face, flopped back down in his chair as the room erupted in ovation. Panting, Santana looped her arm with Brittany's, briefly acknowledged the applause, and approached Adam with Brittany still on her arm. The two Cheerios loomed over Adam with anticipation.

"Well?" Santana asked.

"Umm-" Adam started.

"You and Britt and I are going out tonight."

"Ummm-"

"And you're not going to say no." Santana barked.

"Ummm-"

"You might as well," Kurt interrupted, "She won't stop, you know."

"Ummmmmm-" Adam was starting to get frustrated. He had so much to do in the evenings, no matter what day of the week. And yet, Santana wouldn't be denied.

"We're going to pick you up," Santana continued, unfazed, "and we're going to have a good time."

"Really, Santana," Adam began, "I'd love to but-"

"No way!" Santana interrupted. "We're going out."

"But-!" Adam exasperatedly started.

"No buts!" Santana all but screamed, towering over Adam.

"Come on." Brittany added, a little softer. "It'll be fun."

"Well, I-"

"I said," Santana interrupted. "We're going-"

"Santana!" Adam interjected, clearly getting more and more frustrated.

"I said-"

"_I just can't!" _Adam screamed.

Silence. No one said a word as Adam sat there, panting a little.

"I.." Adam struggled. "I…"

He briefly looked around the room at all the eyes on him and he just couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry. Excuse me." And with that, Adam grabbed his bookbag and ran out of the room, tears threatening.

Everybody was immediately concerned and confused. Everybody, that is, except Santana. She just smirked.

.

Stunned silent, every single member of New Directions stared at the empty choir room doorway. One by one, one gleek looked at the other, only to return their dumbfounded stares back to the doorway.

Then, a small hand could be seen on the door jam. Then, an arm. Then half of a head. And finally, a whole head.

With everybody staring at the door, Marissa Connor's eyes suddenly bulged. Horrified, she quickly turned around, black hair flying, and started to race the other way!

"Wait!" Mr Shuester yelled, running towards the door. He disappeared down the hall for a few seconds, before returning with the sheepish girl in tow.

"Sorry about that Miss….?"

"Connor." Marissa quietly said. "Marissa Connor."  
>As the gleeks were calming back down, and Santana and Brittany returned to their seats, Mr. Shuester used his passive voice to inquire further about this new student.<p>

"Can I help you?" he genuinely asked.

"I. . ." Marissa struggled, looking down. "I wasn't expecting. . ."

"We had," Mr. Shuester quietly began, "a little meltdown moment in here just now. Nothing to be concerned with."

As he finished with a smile, he noticed that this didn't calm her down very much. But, she continued anyway.

"I want to audition!" Marissa Connor suddenly blurted out.

.

_I want to so badly_, thought Adam as he tore down the hallway, rounding the corner past the strange girl outside the door and further down away from the poring eyes. He almost tripped over that girl and narrowly missed, his thoughts becoming a maelstrom of frustration, confusion, and ultimately anger. He wanted to be a normal teenager. He wanted that life. He wanted that life _back._

And as he turned the corner, that's when it hit him. His vision became a clouded and icy burst of red. Then, vicious, unforgiving hands pushed him into the lockers. Slumping to the floor, the only sound he heard was Azimio Adams' cruel laughter.

_FUCK!_

.

As red dye #5 was dripping from his hair, Adam stared at himself in the mirror. His back ached a little as he scrubbed ice out of his hair. His backpack always had replacement clothes and he was glad he brought conditioner rinse with him. A fluorescent light or two flickered above him, but otherwise, the room was silent.

He had this routine down pat – rinse, towel dry, rinse again, towel dry again, rinse the face with cold water, lightly wash with hand soap, rinse again, check for any stinging sensations in the face, cold rinse his clothes, put on new clothes, leave the bathroom with head held high, and place the dirty, dripping clothes in his locker. Every gleek was used to this by now and that's the way it was. It shouldn't have been.

But his routine was suddenly interrupted.

Just as he was in his second rotation of hair rinsing, he heard the door opening. With one eye squinted shut, he looked in the mirror and saw the new arrival.

Adam tensed. . .and then smiled.

.


	7. Chapter 7

AN -

This is the reposted version of Chapter 7.

Hello Everyone. :) Welcome to a new chapter.

Thank you to everyone reading this and supporting it.

It means a lot. Thank you to the followers and people who put this in their favorites.

Again thanks umbrella0326 x3

Also shout out to **GarethGlee14**. Hi! lol! Your reviews have been very sweet. Thank you for your kind words! :)

OK, on to the story. Dave unfortunately is not in this chapter. BUT! Don't worry he'll be back. ;)

This is mostly Adam-centric. I wanted to focus on Adam and his past for a bit. Oh warning – this gets a little intense. As this story goes on this will continue to happen.

I don't own Glee.  
>Please review, please be kind.<p>

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Adam breathed such a long sigh of relief that he started to see spots. But as he righted himself, he noticed that there was a slight stinging sensation near his left eye. He quickly returned to his task at hand, which he thought was done.<p>

"Here," Artie said as he wheeled into the room, Kurt in tow. "Try this."

Artie produced a box of tissues from a small Kleenex dispenser. Adam took it gingerly, mumbled his thanks, winced a little at his sudden back pain, and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

The three boys all stood (well, one sat) with a mixture of sympathy and horror. It was rare to get both kinds of popular bullying tactics at the same time. Kurt and Artie didn't know who did it to Adam, but it didn't really matter. McKinley High School didn't seem to have a clue as to how to deal with the bullying problem. That's a popular sentiment in many schools around the world, isn't it?

_I won't cry_, Adam told himself. But Kurt knew better. He slowly approached the sullen gleek, fervently starting at himself in the mirror. Kurt sighed.

"Keep wiping your forehead." Kurt softly advised. "You'd be surprised how much of that damn dye-"  
>"I got it." Adam interrupted, eyeing Kurt momentarily sideways, and then back to the mirror. "This isn't the first time."<p>

Artie and Kurt exchanged looks quickly and then back to Adam.

"It isn't?" Artie asked. "You've been slush-"  
>"Yes!" Adam suddenly yelled. The walls echoed momentarily with the exclamation and then died as soon as it was heard.<p>

Adam looked apologetic for a minute, but resumed his work anyway. He hated to admit it, but Kurt was right. Adam found he needed another Kleenex, silently provided by Artie.

Another rinse, another swipe, more rinsing. . .

Minutes passed in silence. It was obvious to Adam that both Artie and Kurt were missing second period, and was suddenly grateful. And guilty.

"Do you both have to get to class?" Adam asked, still looking at his reflection.

"Yes." Artie and Kurt chorused.

"Well, I don't-"

"Too bad." Artie interrupted, "Kurt and me wanted to make sure you're OK and that you had the help you needed. We didn't know. . ."

Kurt quickly looked back at Artie and subtly nodded to him, giving him approval to continue.

"We didn't know you'd been slushied before." Artie finished, with a brief sigh.

Adam paused but didn't turn around. Tiny cracks in his façade began to show on his face, which was the very last thing he wanted to do. But, as Artie so eloquently put it, they were looking out for him.  
>"T-thank you." Adam said.<p>

And then, Kurt made a mistake. He closed the distance and awkwardly hugged Adam from the side. Not a second later, Adam felt the leg braces of Artie's wheelchair on his calves and another set of hands around his middle.

A fissure crack in his strength appeared. Adam just hung his head low, no longer concerned with hiding his anger, frustration, fear, you name it. If the emotion had a name, he felt it. A tear or two fell down his thin cheeks as the other two continued to simply hold him. No one knew who was more grateful.

The class bell had yet to ring to end second period. Nobody was concerned about time. Artie and Kurt just continued to give support to the newer gleek and weren't afraid to show it. It occurred to Adam that maybe he should ask if Artie locked the door, but he was too shaken to be concerned with that then. He was just being. . .held.

Artie was the first to release him. And, as if by some unspoken agreement, Kurt then followed. Adam turned around and smiled gratefully, sadly, at the two boys who came to his rescue. Sort of.

"If," Artie gently began, "you ever want to talk, I'll listen."

Adam couldn't help but put his soft hand on Artie's shoulder.

"Thank you, Artie." Adam replied, quietly relieved at the generous offer. "I might do that."

Artie pulled his cell phone out and handed it to Adam. "Text me your number."

Adam looked stunned at yet another generous offer. Artie simply smiled. Adam quickly worked the screens and sent a text with his cell phone number. When completed, he handed the phone back with a wide smile. Neither boy knew it, but Kurt was smiling appreciatively at his chair-bound friend and fellow gleek.

"Cool." Artie concluded. "Well, see ya' around, Adam. Kurt."

And with that Artie briskly wheeled around, pressed the handicapped button, and waltzed through the mechanically opened door. At least McKinley High School had this service in their schools, let alone a real anti-bullying policy.

After Artie left, Kurt returned his sympathetic gaze to the sad boy in front of him. But Adam was suddenly gathering up his things – one arm with rinsed clothes and his bookbag in the other.

"Adam."

He didn't respond.

"Adam. Stop."

He didn't respond. He didn't stop. Adam just continued to assemble his belongings in a brisk way that clearly indicated he wanted to go. He even had to wipe his face again.

"Don't go out there like that, Adam."

"Like what?"

"With fresh tears on your eyes."

"I. . .I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Kurt," Adam said, sighing, "I'm fine."

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"I am."

Kurt's eyebrow remained elevated. Adam finally relented.

"Look," Adam said, dropping his bag on the floor, but holding his damp clothes. "I. . .I've been through this kind of shit. . .b-before."

Kurt's eyes widened momentarily, and then dropped back to normal, briefly nodding in understanding. Adam, standing just a few feet away from his fellow gleek, turned his head towards the window as he spoke.

"Back in Chicago. . ." Adam began, but faltered. Kurt waited. He briefly considered if he should touch Adam's shoulder in a show of support, but held back for some reason.

"Look, never mind."

"No, tell me."

"No."

"Why not?" Kurt gently asked. And _this_ time, he did put his hand on Adam's shoulder. Adam felt the soft touch, the oh so gentle show of support. Surprisingly, tears were the last thing on Adam's mind.

"I. . ." Adam firmly began, still facing the window. "Does that window point to the west?"

Confused, Kurt replied, "Yeah, I think so."

"The west. . ." Adam said dreamily. "I'm from Chicago."

"I remember."

Adam finally looked back at Kurt and Kurt saw something else on his face. Something non-descript and very disturbing.

"In Chicago, it's noisier." Adam started. "You get used to hearing ambulances. But one thing you _never_ get used to is. . ."

Kurt leaned forward a little, giving Adam as much gentle encouragement to speak as he could muster.

"Having an ambulance. . .for. . .y-you."

Kurt's eyes couldn't have gotten wider. Adam slightly turned towards the window, completely absorbed in painful memories. Kurt, not quite knowing what to do, simply squeezed Adam's shoulder. But Adam gently removed himself from Kurt's tender grasp.

"It's OK, Kurt." He still had that far-away look in his eyes as he continued. "Like I said, I've been through this before."

"But none of us," Kurt said, "have ever needed an ambulance."  
>"And," Adam quickly said, "you better hope you never do."<p>

And with that, Adam tried to step around Kurt, but Kurt got in his way. Adam sighed.

"Kurt," Adam replied, autocratically. "I'm _fine_."

But Kurt wasn't buying it. Adam briefly shook his head, scooping up his bookbag. And suddenly, a small smile adorned his beautiful face.

"It would've been a lot worse if my friends, Leti and Ricky, hadn't been just as supportive as you and Artie." At the very brief mention of his adorable friends in Chicago, Adam's face fell, but quickly recovered.

Now it was Kurt's turn to smile. "OK. And Artie's offer goes for me as well. You already have my cell phone-"  
>"I got it." Adam interrupted, and deftly stepped around Kurt and out the door.<p>

Stunned, Kurt watched Adam's retreating form, as if rooted to the spot.

Then, quite suddenly, the door slightly reopened and Adam's face peeked through the small gap, an ornery grin on his face.

"And Artie would've _totally _kicked my Chicago bullie's asses!"

Kurt and Adam shared a laugh as the door closed again. Alone, Kurt checked his face in the mirror and left the bathroom.

.

He had way too many thoughts in his head. He couldn't remember his locker combination all of a sudden. He couldn't stop staring at the floor. He couldn't lift his eyes up. He just. . .couldn't.

Lost in thoughts, Adam Porter began the laborious task of being a high school student. Transferring books from his locker, dully closing it, and mechanically walking to this classroom and this classroom and this classroom. The mundanity of his day didn't even strike a chord with him anymore. Why should it?

But when moments came that reminded him of how much he had a surrogate family in the glee club, his spirits lifted slightly.

He reminded himself of the kind words and actions Artie and Kurt provided. He loved the fiery support from Kurt in particular. It reminded him of his friends back in his hometown.

Smiling slightly as he headed to geometry class, he couldn't help but remember something –

.

(four months ago) Adam was in the driver's seat. Leti in the front and Ricky relaxed in the back. Approaching the Burger King drive thru, he watched Leti lean over to the cute cashier, batting an eyelash here, showing a little breast there. Her smile was infectious as the cashier and girl flirted. God, it was adorable.

It was really no wonder that they didn't have to pay for their food, in exchange for Leti's cell phone number with the cashier. Of course, Leti didn't _really_ give him a real number, but she was very skilled at the art of flirting. Howling laughter could be heard as Adam sped away from the drive thru. They had gotten their way. And all it took was a little work on a cute boy from a very cute girl. After all, in her own words – _men are so easy._

_._

(present) Adam smiled lightly at the memory. Those almost carefree days were a distant memory, despite only occurring a few months ago. His bittersweet thoughts were interrupted by a student here and a student there bumping into him as he crossed hallways. He entered the geometry classroom a little giddy. _Just_ a little giddy.

.

The day was over. This was the time that all students had a pep in their step. And Adam was no exception. Besides, he had a full evening planned – again. Home duties, work duties, homework, his mom. . . It didn't seem to end.

Suddenly, he saw a Hispanic hand smack the locker right beside his. Adam sighed.

Santana.

Dressed in her Cheerios uniform, Santana Lopez rested her elbow on the locker right beside an annoyed Adam. Her smirk in full force and gorgeous black hair pulled back in a ponytail, she regarded him unashamedly before beginning her tirade.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Santana asked with false sweetness.

"Nothing, Santana. I've got to go to work." He started to walk around her but was predictably blocked. So, Adam sighed.

"You're making me late." Adam said with gritted teeth.

"So what? Take the night off."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

_Now what?_ Adam thought. Santana said nothing, choosing to stare into him, daring him to come up with another excuse in avoiding her and Brittany's invitation to. . .whatever it was they had planned for him. This time, Adam stifled a sigh.

"Santana, did-"

"What?"

"Stop interr-"

"What?"

"You're not helping your cause, you know!" Adam barked. Santana smirked.

"There it is."

Perplexed, Adam asked, "What?"

"There it is! That fire from this morning's little bitch-fest."

"Santana. . ."

This is an old-fashioned stand-off. Adam was in no way going to get away from her and he knew he had to face this head on. But what would that truly mean for him?

"Look, Eighteen. Just take one night off. Give yourself a break."

And for the first time in several long minutes, Adam finally looked sad.

"Because. . .I can't."  
>"Yes, you can."<p>

Very few students were in the hallway by this point. They were practically alone as Santana continued to challenge the gleek newcomer.

"I. . ._we_ need the money."

Santana shifted. "We?"

"Yes we!" Adam said, probably a bit too loudly. "I. . ."

Adam looked down and Santana took a step back.

"What do you mean 'we'?" Santana rudely asked. Adam should've known she would be this way. A mean Santana Lopez is a caring Santana Lopez.  
>But Adam couldn't look at her. His feral stare, focused on the tiled floor, couldn't look up. Santana stood her group, arms clasped defensively in front of her.<br>"I.. ."  
>And that's when the worst thing could've happened to him, in his mind. A tear fell across his cheek.<br>Suddenly, Santana changed. Adam could almost feel the change before he physically felt it. In that instant, arms engulfed him as his tears fell along his cheeks.  
>"My dad's gone!" Adam exploded. "My mom's schizophrenic. My sisters are selfish. My mom's benefits only cover healthcare. I work to support us! I work <em>to<em> _survive!_" And tears upon tears upon tears blasted out of Adam's eyes as Santana held him. She had no idea what she was getting herself into with this question.  
>But she was strong. So was Adam. But everyone has a breaking point. Adam was close to his and Santana knew that.<br>"OK, Adam. Come on." Santana maternally cooed. "Come on, buddy."  
>But Adam was inconsolable at this point! He just cried and cried and cried. Nobody was in the halls at this point and Santana (Santana!) was holding him up.<br>"Come on, Adam." Santana gently yet firmly insisted. "Come on."  
>Gradually, Adam came back to himself. His sobs became cries. His cries became tears. His tears became an occasional tear. And then, well, Adam slowly gathered himself, still engulfed in her arms.<br>And then, he slowly stood upright, daring to meet her piercing eyes. And when he met them, he was overwhelmed at the sympathy in her.  
>"Now," Santana gently began, "I understand, Eighteen."<br>Adam softly laughed at the ridiculous nickname. But it was what he needed. He so badly needed somebody to confide in. He just never anticipated that this fiery Hispanic gleek would be it. And it was so worth it.  
><em>I love this bitchy girl!<em> thought Adam.

.


	8. Chapter 8

AN –

Warning – domestic violence.

This chapter is very intense with some violence. Tread lightly if this bothers you. You've been warned.

Dave returns and we see his life. It's not good.

Good reviews are welcome.

My thanks to umbrella0326 and, as always, a good shoutout to garethglee14.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Dave groaned and rolled his eyes. <em>Here we go again<em>, Dave thought with a sigh. He could hear the garage door opening, the soft rumble of his dad's car engine dying down, and the steady, rhythmic sound of the garage door closing.

Daddy's home.

Dave was in his bedroom, doing normal teenage stuff – playing _Resident Evil_ on his Xbox One. He loved how involved the game made him feel. The storyline alone drew him in, letting him avoid the outside world that was his home.

His home.

Dave sighed.

The inevitable slamming of the kitchen door was heard along with at least two heavy, thudding footsteps.

_Boy, get down here!_ Dave thought.

"Boy!" Paul Karofsky hollered, "Get down here!"

Sighing, Dave turned off the game console. He knew he wouldn't be able to play for a while. Having completed his geometry and social studies homework already, he knew he'd have to do whatever his dad wanted. He realized that this Thursday evening would soon become a typical weekday evening. Dave sighed again.

Dave thudded down the attic steps to the second floor, briskly walked through the hallway, and approached the staircase.

But here, he hesitated. He closed his eyes for just an instant, breathing deeply. He hoped he would be able to withstand his Karofsky temper. And, of course, withstand his dad's fists.

He quickly descended the staircase and turned to his left. As he approached the white and expansive kitchen, his dad was propped near the kitchen table, hands on hips, looking around. Finally, he looked up with his dark eyes at his closeted son.

The two men simply looked at each other. But gradually, Dave started getting uncomfortable. When Paul Karofsky hesitated like this, _everything_ became unpredictable.

"Kitchen." Paul said.

Dave briefly scanned the kitchen as Paul indicated but stood rooted to the spot. He had no response.

"Now." And just as he finished saying that, Paul smirked and strolled to one of the kitchen chairs. He roughly pulled out the chair and plopped on it, folding his arms across his broad chest.

Slightly sighing, Dave scanned the kitchen. It actually wasn't very dirty. There were a handful of dirty dishes that needed to go into the dishwasher and the counter-top near the refrigerator had a stain or two. Other than that, the kitchen was spotless. Or, at least, it was spotless as far as Dave was concerned. Who knew what his _father_ thought.

Dave walked over to the sink and began clearing up the dishes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father watching him. Watching him with that condescending, power-hungry smile that always irritated and sickened him. Deciding to ignore him, Dave instead dove into his work.

He became absorbed, going into his own introverted mind. A song came to his thoughts, but he kept it to himself. Plate after plate after bowl went into the dishwasher, followed very quickly by some silverware.

And that's when it happened.

Dave suddenly felt a jolting pain in the back of his head! Snarling, he turned around only to realize that his dad had quietly gotten up and slapped the back of his head. Smirk intact, Paul stood just inches behind Dave. Stunned, Dave just stared at his large father.

"_Well?!_" Paul screamed. Dave knew not to flinch – and he didn't. Then, Paul added softly, "get back to work."

For just one second, Dave stared at his father, bewildered by his actions. Then, Dave slowly, tentatively turned back around and finished clearing the dirty dishes, too keenly aware that his dad could come at him again.

Dave finished rather quickly, moving on to the counter-tops with a washrag. He kept an eye on his father out of the corner of his eye while wiping the basically clean Formica.

Paul smirked. "Good, boy." Dave hesitated for just an instant before briskly wiping the counter-tops _again._

"Always be aware. . ." Paul quietly said, a slightly patronizing tone in his voice.

In less than ten seconds, Dave was done cleaning the Formica. When he was done, he turned around.

Paul was gone.

Dave sighed.

And that was it.

.

The men ate dinner. Paul left the dining room without a word, leaving the cleanup to his son. It didn't take long for Dave to clean the dining room and kitchen (_again!_), before returning to his spot at the dining room table. Dave was giving the table an once-over glance just to make sure it was spotless, which it truly was. He didn't want to give his father any more ammunition than he had to. And that's when the cell phone in his pocket buzzed.

Dave pulled it out and realized he'd received a text. Using his thumb to open it, he read the text. And for the first time that evening, Dave smiled – an adorable, honest, trusting smile that he'd yearned for, for so long.

_hope ur in a good mood. always want 2 talk to u. at least I know whr the home side of the stadium is!_

Excitedly, with golden smile intact, Dave had to revise his text several times, before getting the spelling the way he wanted –

_Im good. good to hear from u! need a ride to work?_

The response was nearly instantaneous.

_Already there. on break. bored. Wanna come to breadstix?_

Dave's boyish smile was hurting his face, as he adjusted his body more comfortably in the dining room chair. Yet again, he typed and re-typed and re-typed. He didn't care!

_SURE! im on my way. need anything?_

Dave was biting his thumbnail, anticipating Adam's response. He forced himself to be as patient as possible. But he was an excited teenager! He didn't know why, at first, why he was so eager and happy to hear from this kid, this fellow student, this amazing boy. But he was excited anyway.

Finally the response came.

_just u and ur crazy self!_

Dave laughed out loud, nearly squeezing the phone in two. He was so happy!

And that's when it happened.

WHAM!

Growling, his hand went up to the back of his head, where he endured yet again, a hard, sneaky slap, Ike Turner-style.

Dave's happiness shattered. He turned and saw the condescending smirk on his father.

His thoughts became feral, he glare focused on his father's face, his mouth curling in on itself in anger, his slow, hateful ascent to meet his father's eyes, his absolute and sudden hate that boiled through his body. Karofsky reappeared as he stared, eye-level, with his abusive father.

_Enough! Fucking enough! ENOUGH!  
><em>"_AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!_" Dave roared and roared and roared, just inches from his father's stunned face. His thunderous boom slammed into his father, as years and years and _years_ of abuse finally brought Dave out of the role of 'son' and into 'Karofsky.'

Dave screamed again. And again. And again!

_CRACK!_

Dave only heard the crack. His adrenalin blocked any pain that was conceivable in that moment, pain that should've been felt in his left jaw from his father's first-ever punch to his face.

Dave's face fell to his right at the impact.

Silence.

Heavy silence.

Dave didn't feel a thing. Slowly, ever so slowly, Dave raised his face to meet his father's, _again_ just inches away from him. Paul stared at his son, repressed anger at his son's actions.

But Dave was transformed. Dave was _Karofsky!_

"_NO you son of a bitch!_" Dave hollered, as years of uncontrolled fury poured out of him. Dave exploded!

"_No more you absolute pain the ass, sonuvabitch, bastard, motherfucker, cocksucker, marriage FAILURE, HOPELESS, FUCKED UP FAILU-"_

_Crack!_

Dave ran. Blindly, he ran. Paul grabbed Dave's arm as he continued to try to flee. But Dave yanked his arm free, purposely not looking him in the eye.

When Dave freed himself from his Dad's prison, Paul momentarily lost his balance, stunned. That was Dave's opportunity – and he took it.

He ran.

"Boy, get back here!" Paul yelled, following him.

But Dave was already out the front door. Headed towards his car, keys in hand, he finally felt the pain in his left jaw.

And he didn't care.

Dave drove in reverse, headed towards the street, headed nowhere and everywhere. His mind had shut down as he was approaching the street.

Paul leaped off the front porch, quickly looking if neighbors were watching, before hollering, "Get back here _now!_"

But Dave didn't hear him. He was already on the road, gunning the engine, already at twenty, then thirty-five, and finally fifty miles an hour.

Dave drove. Paul stared. Adam smiled as he returned from break.

.

Friday morning. The next day. Dave was walking down the halls of McKinley High School, head slightly angled away from the masses in the hallways. His schedule, though, had changed.

Upon returning home just before sunset the previous night, the two Karofsky men barely looked at each other. Paul mumbled that Dave was grounded for a week. Then, they separated. The disciplinary meeting was quick and efficient.

Dave rounded the hall, headed towards his locker, when he ran into the person he least and most wanted to see – Adam Porter.

"Dave!" Adam happily exclaimed, "Where were. . ." And his words drifted off. Dave, trying his best to angle his face away from the beautiful boy in front of him, simply stood there like a statue. But Adam took charge.

"Choir room. Now."

And with that, Adam turned and left, not even checking if Dave was following. He was, of course.

A half a minute later, the two boys walked into the empty, emotionless choir room. Adam proceeded a few more steps into the room without even turning around – yet. Dave slowly shut the door, giving them complete privacy.

Then, Adam purposely turned around and sympathy poured out of him.

_The first thing he'll say to me will be a lie_, Adam thought.

"What happened, Dave?" Adam gently asked.

Dave, face still angled away, tried his best to be believable.

"I bumped into a door." Dave murmured.

Adam sighed. He was right.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Adam approached Dave. And although Dave stood like a marble statue, there were little tremors throughout his body, his breathing becoming erratic.

"Poor-"

"I don't want your sympathy." Dave quietly said.

Adam, a little surprised at the harshness, said nothing. Instead, as if it were completely accepted, he raised his arm in an honest attempt to comfort Dave – just a soft, compassionate stroke along Dave's arm . . .

But he stopped himself, unsure if it was appropriate. Dave watched all of this out of the corner of his eye. Adam briefly thought if Dave actually _did_ want the affection, but wouldn't admit it.

Adam almost started crying, but forced himself to remain strong.

"Promise me something?" Adam softly asked.

Dave, still not facing him, said nothing.

"Come to my apartment when it gets like that again."

And then, Adam slowly left the room, leaving the statuesque David Karofsky where he was.

And when Adam was gone, a tear fell down Dave's strong, full jaws, right over the bruise.

.


	9. Chapter 9

AN – Hi people, ha ha! :)

I don't own Glee at all. If I did Dave would be in all 13 episodes of its final season ;)

Shout out to: GarethGlee14! You Rock! Your reviews sweet!  
>Thanks Hun ;)<p>

On to the story we are back with Adam, Marissa, Adam's mom and Azimio.

I wanted something lighter and fun for this chapter since the last chapter was... intense. Dave isn't in this chapter again. But he will back. Oh also the bands mentioned in this chapter are some of my favorite bands in the world. x3 Just thought I'd let you all know that. :)

Thank you guys for your support. It means a lot to me.

As always Thank you umbrella0326 for helping me post this. *hugs*

One last thing – I will be getting to Kurtofsky soon. I promise. ;)

I know that is what you are all here for lol!

We are very close. But a few things need to happen before that goes down. Thanks for your patience. :)

I hope you understand.  
>Please review, Please be kind.<br>So with all that said... .  
>Enjoy!<p>

* * *

><p>He fiddled with the spoon, settled in the empty bowl of Cocoa Puffs. He turned it over and over, mildly interested in how the sunlight from the vertical blinded windows twinkled on it.<p>

Adam sighed. He knew he should get up. He knew the sofa was practically a life sucker, taking his life away. He knew he should place his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. But, he was sluggish this morning. He was also anticipating quite a few other things.

His sisters hadn't gotten up yet. Nor his mother. He didn't know which persona his mother would be this morning, but he'd gotten used to it. Chances are, she would just hide in her room for most of the day – like usual. And there was never anything unusual about this. It was just his way of life. And hers. So, Adam did what he usually did in this situation – Adam sighed.

This was one of the very, very few times in Adam Porter's life that he had peace. Unfortunately, he noticed that he only seemed to have peace when he was alone. He longed for a companion, a friend, a. . .boyfriend. Adam shook his head. He wanted peace this morning, for as long as he could get it. He breathed in deeply, the dust in the air, the tension soon to come, the annoyance, and the temporary peace. Adam breathed deep.

Suddenly, a door opened. He no longer dreaded who would emerge. He no longer wondered if it would be his dad, ready to beat him, or his mom and whichever personality was alive today, or his self-centered and arguing sisters. He no longer had any feeling when a family member was near him. It was almost as if he were. . .numb.

Adam's mother appeared in the living room, coming to a stop just outside the hallway. She wore her usual purple robe, her hair askew from waking up, eyes still just a little puffy from sleep. Once a beauty in her own right, she stared at Adam, a slight frown on her face.

Adam sighed. He knew what would happen next. However, Adam was wrong.

Suddenly, her slight frown turned into a smile – a smile the brightened her worn face, teeth still crooked and disheveled from lack of care. Her blue eyes widened as she gazed at her son and Adam couldn't believe what was happening!

Eagerly, he smiled back. He was so happy. Slowly, she turned and walked into the kitchen, a slight giddy-up in her step. Adam watched her with a boyish smile on his face. Soon, she reappeared with her own bowl of Cocoa Puffs, slowly turning the spoon in the brown, crispy, _sugary_ cereal. She came to a stop just beside the sofa, still lazily moving her spoon. She then halted her efforts and grimaced at the sugary balls of cereal. Still holding it up, she turned her head and mockingly grimaced at Adam – there was simply too much sugar in there for her taste.

Adam couldn't help but laugh. She was right – those cereals have _way_ too much sugar!

She laughed back, a smooth, feminine laugh that suited her. The two shared a brief yet incredibly joyous moment. It was truly, incredibly, wonderful!

Lilly Porter took a seat on the couch, just a few feet away from her son. Adam watched her with an admiration in his heart. Her schizophrenia had been difficult to control lately, but today, it was as if his mother had come back completely. And Adam wouldn't look _this_ gift horse in the mouth!

"Do you have any homework to do today?" Lilly asked, just after she swallowed a spoonful.

"Yup!" Adam happily responded, "I have some social studies chapters to read, and I have to finish up some geometry." Adam picked up his spoon and twirled it in his bowl. "Oh! And I have to come up with a song for glee club. But that won't take long."

"Well," she began, "make sure you get it done."

"I will. . .Mom." Adam looked down.

It had been a long time since Adam had called her 'mom'. The observation didn't go unnoticed. Lilly came to an abrupt halt, her spoon dangling just above her Cocoa Puffs. She turned and saw her suddenly stricken son, staring at his empty bowl as if his life depended on it. She stared, silently admiring his strength and his gratitude.

"Hey." Lilly softly said. Adam turned to look at her. "Good."

Silence.

A sudden burst of sunlight filtered through the vertical blinds of the living room window and cast stunningly beautiful light on their faces. Again, it was as if nature was saying everything would be alright. They couldn't stop staring at each other, one admiring the other and vice versa.

Then, Lilly returned to her in-nutritious breakfast with renewed gusto. Adam's smile widened.

And that's when feminine chaos came into the room.

A dumb and incoherent argument could be heard from Adam's sisters as they walked down the hall, through the living room, and into the kitchen.

Lilly turned and gave Adam a knowing smile. Adam smirked. And then, the sisters' argument intensified.

"Stop arguing you two!"

Both sisters turned and stared in wonder at Lilly Porter. Her stern, maternal look was received by the sisters in awe.

Lilly gave them a knowing smile. The sisters smiled. Adam frowned.

.

Almost an hour later, Adam's sisters retreated to their bedroom. Adam and his mother Lilly were still sitting on the couch, enjoying each other's company with smooth small talk and glorious sunshine. Adam watched his mother's mannerisms, surprisingly happy the way she'd tilt her head when he said something interesting, or the way her ears perked up when she was surprised. He found he loved watching her blue eyes, same as his, dance in the sunlight.

It really, truly was beautiful.

"Do you remember," Lilly calmly asked, fiddling with a loose string on the upholstered couch, "when you came out?"

Adam laughed. "Of course I do! That isn't something you'd easily forget." They both shared a quick laugh. But, it seemed like his mother was getting to a point.

"But do you remember Ricky's reaction?"

Adam stared off into space as Lilly did the same. . .

.

. . .Fourteen-year olds Adam Porter and Ricky Smith were sitting in the kitchen, sharing a bowl of chili mac, and laughing at photos on Ricky's cell phone. The boys giggled at photos of them on the elementary school playground, being silly and pretending to be overjoyed on the slide.

Unbeknownst to them, Adam's mother, strong and elegant, strode through the room behind them. Adam didn't know his mother was watching him, figuring out little details and cues from body language. She stood there, admiring her son for several minutes until Adam finally noticed and turned around.

"Mom!" Adam exclaimed, "What are you doing?"

Suddenly, Lilly frowned. "Come here." And with that, she slowly walked through the kitchen and all the way to the other side of the living room. Adam followed, a little warily. When he arrived, his mother looked at him with such compassion that Adam was a little bowled over. Silently, she gave him such support – so much, in fact, that he didn't know he needed it.

And then, his mother dropped a bombshell.

"He's really cute." Lilly whispered. "You should ask him out."

Adam's eyes couldn't have gotten wider. Lilly gave him a knowing, safe smile.

"I know, baby." Lilly cooed. "I know. And it's OK."

He quickly looked away. He was so touched by his mom's compassion, but alarmed that she figured out his sexuality.

She briefly touched his shoulder and left him, as he turned and faced the window. As she left, she noticed Ricky at the kitchen table. As she passed by, she noticed the change in Ricky – he overheard everything. She gave _him_ a knowing smile and left them, for her bedroom.

Adam slowly turned around and went back to the kitchen table. Ricky shook his head, reopened his cell phone, and within seconds, the boys were laughing again. . .

.

. . ."I didn't know he overheard us." Adam whispered.

"Yeah, he did."

"He didn't say anything about it."

"He was probably just surprised."

"Surprised?"

"Well, yeah. Wouldn't you be surprised?"

Adam thought for a minute. "Of course. Of course."

Adam was just about to ask another question when he noticed his mother blinking rapidly.

_Oh no, _Adam desperately thought. _Not now._

Lilly looked down at her folded hands, turning them from time to time. Adam watched her protectively. Then, quite suddenly, she looked at him.

"Eddie?"

Adam sighed.

.

His weekend went as expected. His Monday morning went as expected. His arrival at school had been…you know, expected. The mundanity of the weekend was getting to Adam Porter. While he exchanged books and notebooks from his locker to his backpack, early morning student life flowed all around him. Gabbing teenage girls, pulling gum between their teeth, students opening and closing lockers, teenage boys laughing and joking amongst themselves, an occasional flirtation session between this girl and that boy – you know, teenage life.

Just as Adam was about to close his locker, he noticed some sheet music to 'Rent'. Affectionately, he briefly touched the cover page, loving to have the opportunity to sing in glee club. He loved the glee club. He felt alive and free, unhinged by the monotony of his day. And that's when he received a little surprise, just to his left.

In fact, she kind of snuck up on him, but he noticed the shy, progressive girl from glee club out of his peripheral vision.

"Hello, Marissa." Adam stated, still looking at the sheet music. "Do you still like our insane glee club?"

"Yes!" Marissa eagerly answered, surprising Adam a little. Adam momentarily cringed and closed his eyes, after he studied her purple, flowing skirt and black combat boots. Her fashion sense could use some work, from Adam's point-of-view, but that could be a conversation for another time.

"Well. . ." Adam began, just now opening his eyes, "that's good."

Marissa just continued to goofily smile at him, absently scratching her face. Adam, finally noticing her smiling stare, briefly smiled back before finally closing his locker. But quite suddenly, he was stopped, her hand on his wrist.

"_The Cure_?!" Marissa exclaimed, reopening the locker door wide open. Inside the locker door was a little sticker in Adam's support of the 1980s progressive rock group.

Adam could help but smile a little.

"Yeah," he answered, a little quietly. "I love them and," he absently waved his hand, down from that sticker, "others. . ."

"Oh my God. . ." Marissa murmured, looking at Adam's alternative rock band collection of stickers on his door – _Taking Back Sunday,_ _Motion City Soundtrack_, _Blink-182_, and a few others she didn't recognize. She finally looked back up at him, nearly eye level.

"I think I love you." Marissa quietly said. Adam could hold back a snort in the appreciation.

"Well," Adam said embarrassingly, tilting his head down as he shut his locker door, "thank you, I think, but you're not exactly my type."  
>"Oh," Marissa said, turning to walk with him as they strolled down the hall, "I know. Trust me. I know."<p>

Adam stared at her as she devilishly smiled back. Adam, relieved, understood her completely. _This is one cool chick_, Adam thought.

"I really like your rock group taste in music, and," she waved her arm backwards towards his locker, "your taste in Broadway."

Adam and Marissa continued to stroll down the hall, completely oblivious to the other students around them. But suddenly, near a fork in the halls, Marissa came to a stop.

"Help." Marissa suddenly blurted.

"Huh?"

"I mean, I need your help."

Adam briefly studied her before responding, "OK. With what?"

"Glee club."

"What about glee club?"

"Ummmm…." And here, she faltered. As she looked away trying to find the right words, a red blur had suddenly come to a stop. Turning to look behind her, he noticed Azimio Adams, standing near the corner, not ten feet away, staring intently at Marissa. He hadn't even noticed Adam was staring at _him_.

Marissa continued to stare off into the distance, her index and thumb fingers slowly stroking her lower lip, in contemplation. But Adam, suddenly alarmed, didn't take his eyes off Azimio. He wanted to somehow warn her of his presence, protect her, anything to ensure her safety.

But Adam began to notice something. Azimio seemed entranced. He watched this enormous jock stare at Marissa as if nothing else were in the vicinity. Azimio's eyes intensified and Adam could've sworn they even softened.

The bell rung. Azimio seemed to come out of his trance and glanced up at Adam. Eyes hardened at each other suddenly. Adam's defenses were on complete alert.

Marissa looked up at Adam and noticed his gaze was behind her. She turned around and saw the enormous jock, eyes widen momentarily, and then he fled the other direction.

Marissa turned back around to Adam. "Who was that?"

"Nobody." Adam softened his features and returned to Marissa. "Anyway, let me know what you want help with when we get inside. We can talk more peacefully there."

Marissa's smile just lit up the hallway. She offered her arm and, smiling, allowed Marissa to clasp his elbow.

They walked to the choir room together, as other students hurried to get to their respective classes. A barrette in Marissa's hair caught his attention then. And as he looked at her gaudy barrette, his peripheral vision caught Azimio, many steps behind them. He considered confronting Azimio, who was following them now, but chose instead to strengthen his grip on Marissa's arm, protectively.

_That should send the message_, Adam thought. But it didn't. As they entered the choir room, Adam turned his head and made eye contact with Azimio, at least ten steps behind them.

Azimio, suddenly annoyed, flipped Adam the bird and strode away in the opposite direction. Marissa never noticed.

_What the hell is his problem?_ Adam thought.

Marissa smiled at him and Adam smiled back. Azimio was long gone and class began at McKinley High School.

.


	10. Chapter 10

AN –

Hey everybody! Glad you're all back!

OK, so this is the longest chapter I've written so far. But it's sooooo worth it! We see more of Dave and Adam together. It's funny and sad and...wonderful!

Also, there's some mild violence in this chapter. Tread carefully.

Hope you enjoy it! Would love good reviews please!  
>Shoutouts to umbrella0326 and garethglee14. You two are awesome!<p>

* * *

><p>The uneven sidewalks made Adam trip from time to time. The almost set sun didn't help much either. He walked slowly, upset with himself and not anxious to get home to the chaos that probably awaited him. He looked up at the night-time sky, a few tiny stars twinkled sometimes. The air was crisp and a tiny shiver went through his body.<p>

But he was annoyed with himself. After screwing up three orders and spilling a drink on a customer, his manager sent him home for the evening, with a warning. Slightly snarling, Adam was having trouble focusing.

The daily and evening schedule was wearing on him and he was struggling to keep up. His sixteen-year-old self should've been able to handle such a schedule – if it wasn't happening every single day of his life.

Adam sighed.

He fired off a text to Dave when he was sent home. The text simply said, 'been sent hom. Screwed up orders. This sux.' Nothing special. Just something to vent his frustrations. Just a simple, innocent text.

He rounded the corner and approached his street. Across the way, two children, possibly eight and ten years of age, were playing in their driveway. One child crashed in her big wheel and began crying. Immediately, the other one, possibly her brother, came over to console her. Adam briefly watched as he strolled home, noting the carefree attitude of the children.

_Don't grow up, kids_ Adam thought. With a heavy, shuddery sigh, Adam turned his head back towards the sidewalk and approached his apartment complex.

But here, Adam hesitated. He stood, staring at the white facade, the imitation rod-iron gates, the parked cars, the various lights throughout. Staring up, he saw his mom's apartment – his home. No lights were on. He didn't think there would be, but it was still early enough in the evening that _somebody_ might be in the kitchen and/or living room.

Head down, Adam walked into the complex and heavily up the stairs. He hoped it would be a peaceful evening at home. It wouldn't be.

He opened the door as quietly as he could and entered the darkened apartment. The very little sunlight that filtered through cast dark shadows, but every teenager knows how to sneak into his living space. Every. Single. One.

Trudging off his shoes, Adam carefully walked towards the couch and gathered up his bookbag, set on the floor. He quietly turned on the TV, when suddenly, the volume was turned up! Quickly, he turned the volume down, cursing the gods above that the volume had been set too high when turned off earlier. He cringed. He hoped the TV wouldn't draw attention. He hoped nobody would interfere with his peaceful time.

Minutes passed. Adam had relaxed into the sofa, content that nobody would bother him. A stupid comedy was in the background as Adam worked on geometry homework. For the first time in recent memory, Adam Porter sighed _contentedly_.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the apartment door! And that's when everything happened.

A pair of sisters quickly emerged from their bedroom, eyes bulged, and coming to a stop in the living room. Adam's head jumped from the door to his sisters and back to his door. Then, Adam saw the worst thing possible – he saw his mom's bedroom light turn on from under the door.

Alarmed, Adam quickly got up and marched to the front door. Nobody ever visits them and he had no idea who it could be. He heard his sisters arguing about something about late night visitors or something, but Adam wasn't listening.

He peered through the peephole and got the shock of his life! David Karofsky was on the other side of the door. Pulling back, he turned his body away from the door, thoughts a mile a minute in his head. Questions upon questions upon shock halted him momentarily. He was struggling to comprehend when Dave's loud knocking resumed.

"Is it the police?" Lilly asked, worried.

"Is it children's services?" Hannah asked, even more worried.

"No." Adam whispered. "Far from it."

He took one quick look at his worried sisters and then cast his eyes down to the bedroom lights under the door in his mother's room. He wasn't sure he should open the door, but wanted (_needed_) Dave in that moment.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Adam slowly opened the door.

There stood Dave Karofsky, freshly showered from football practice, and as handsome as ever. It nearly took Adam's breath away. And Dave was smiling boyishly!

But Adam was silent as he stared in shock at the jock in front of him. Dave's smile faded and Adam's protocol finally took over.

"Dave!" Adam exclaimed, with a hint of false happiness, "What are you doing here?"

"Well," Dave looked down for a moment before returning his hazel eyes to the perplexed boy in front of him, "when I got your text, I tried to find you at Breadstix. They said you already left and I just caught up with you on the sidewalk as you were entering your apartment."

Dave toed along the threshold, head down. Adam took a quick look at his sisters, who were edging closer to the door to see who was there. His mother's door was still shut.

"I just," Dave gently began, "wanted to make. . .sure you were alright."

For just a moment, Adam's face softened, heart warmed at the sweet compassion coming from this boy in front of him. Then, again, protocol took over.

"Um," Adam hesitated, "c-come in."

Adam pulled the door open all the way, stepping back and to the side. Dave's large frame loomed over him and he got a very good look at Dave's torso and shoulders. Slightly hypnotized, he quickly shook his head as Dave inched more into the apartment, allowing Adam to shut the door. Adam then led Dave into the living room.

Hannah and Lilly just stared, jaws open in surprise.

"Dave? These are my sisters, Hannah and Lilly."

"It's nice to meet you both."

But Hannah and Lilly just stood rooted to the spot. Dave's extended hand went unshook and he dropped it, but smile remained. Adam , not quite knowing what to do, stood awkwardly. So, Dave took charge.

He quickly scanned the place, taking inventory of the surroundings, when he spotted Adam's geometry homework.

"Geometry? With Mrs. Martin?" Dave asked.

Adam, confused, finally followed Dave's line-of-sight and found his geometry textbook.

"Oh!" Adam said surprised and a little flustered. "O-Oh, y-yes. Yes Dave."

The sisters giggled. Adam glared and pointed down the hall. Frowning, the sisters left them for their bedroom, sneaking little glances at the two boys in the living room. The door finally closed, leaving them alone. But Adam's eyes carefully looked for his mother's door, which was still closed. The light was still on. Adam was nervous.

After what seemed like another eternity, Adam invited Dave to sit on the couch. They both sat, Dave sitting as gingerly as possible.

"So," Adam began, "you followed me?"

Dave dropped his head a little. "I tried to catch up to you, but you were almost home when I found you. I wasn't sure what to do, but I finally came up. . .to visit."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Silence. Neither boy knew what to say or do. Awkwardly, Dave took in more of his surroundings, nose wrinkling a little at some kind of odor or something. Adam was instantly ashamed.

"W-would you like something to drink, Dave?"

"Oh, no thanks."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

And that's when Dave finally did the appropriate thing. He smiled, trying his best to reassure and calm down the suddenly nervous boy in front of him. Adam convinced himself that he had to remain calm, keeping an anxious eye on the light under his mom's bedroom door.

"I'm sorry they sent you home, Adam." Dave said, oh so compassionately.

"Oh, it's my fault." Adam replied, head down a little.

"Hey," Dave said, shifting his arm a little on the sofa, just a hair closer to Adam, "it's OK. These things sometimes happen."

Adam slowly lifted his head, noticing how earnest and sweet Dave was being.

"Well," Adam began, staring into Dave's eyes, "it's e-embarrassing."

And that's when little tremors went through Adam's body. Ashamed again, he looked away from Dave at absolutely nothing. A curious tension was filling the air as both boys tried to function in a dysfunctional world.

Suddenly, Adam felt a large, firm hand on his shoulder. Adam's eyes shot towards Dave and nearly fell over at the incredibly sweet and tender expression on Dave's face. Adam tried to his best to keep his composure. _I need some comic relief so I won't cry_, Adam thought.

"Yeah," Adam softly replied, "too bad I didn't spill that drink on your dad."

Dave suddenly roared with laughter, a smooth, loud, commanding laugh that Adam had never heard before. Waves of relief flooded Adam, but Dave's hand remained where it was.

Suddenly, Adam saw his mother's door opened. _Oh no,_ Adam thought.

Into the living room Lilly Porter emerged. Her eyes quickly found Adam, but bulged with instant terror at Dave.

The boys saw her and quickly stood. But Lilly took a step back in terror, eyes glued on Dave. Confused, Adam tried to diffuse the situation.

"Mom? Mom?" Adam asked with increasing volume.

But Lilly stared at Dave, with a horrified expression. Dave stared at her with a slightly confused expression.

"Mom?" Adam said. Finally, her eyes drifted to Adam, but very quickly back to Dave. "This is my f-friend, Dave. Dave, this is my mother, Lilly."

Dave took a step towards Lilly, hand extended, smile intact. But Lilly quickly took a step back, her arms up defensively. Tremors consumed her body, eyes widened even more, mouth open, lips curled back in fear and anger. But Dave was undaunted and dared to take another step. Then, Lilly exploded.

"Get away!" Lilly screamed.

Shocked, Dave stopped, quickly glanced at Adam's worried face, and then right back to Lilly.

"Don't, mom," Adam pathetically began, "Please don't, Mom."

But Lilly was beyond scared. She was petrified with fear.

"You did it!" Lilly yelled, finger extended at Dave. "You did it! _You did it!_"

Confused, Dave was silent. Adam took charge.

"Mom, he's my friend. He didn't-"

"Yes he did! He stole my purse. _I know it!_"

Adam couldn't stop his tears. "_No, please don't!_"

But Lilly couldn't hear him. "_You motherfucker!_"

And that's when she charged at Dave, fists clenched. But Adam was quicker, as Dave took two shocked steps back. Adam grabbed her wrists, struggling with her.

"Mom, please! Go to bed!"

"No! He's a thief!"

"No, he's not!"

They struggled like this in the living room for a couple of seconds before Adam dug his heels, pushing his mother back into her room. The pair struggled as Lilly Porter grabbed the door frame, holding on for dear life, as her precious son shoved at her torso, hoping, begging her to stop her fit.

Finally, with one final shove, Adam pushed his mother into the bedroom. Losing her balance, she fell to the floor, tears consuming her now-fetal positioned body. Her frightened tears soon became anguished sobs which shook her body. Adam stared down at her, out of breath and teary-eyed.

"I'll check on you soon, Mom."

And with that, he closed his mother's door, and locking it. He needed to make sure Dave was alright. When Adam returned to the living room, explanation and apology prepared, he discovered Dave was gone.

.

"Dave!"

Adam saw Dave come to a complete halt and turn around. Adam was running up to him on the sidewalk, just outside the apartment complex. Slightly out of breath, Adam slowed as he approached him. Dave didn't look happy.

"Dave. I'm so-"

"What the hell was that?!" Dave roared. Adam, slightly taken aback, stared at him in shock. He'd never heard Dave yell before.

"I. . .I. . ."

Dave, slightly annoyed and offended, looked away, a tiny scowl on his face. Adam didn't want to see it anymore and looked away too. He wanted that fresh, boyish face back. He wanted the sweet boy who entered his apartment. He wanted the soft eyes that were on his sofa beside him. He wanted so much in that moment. But silence was taking over as Adam continued to struggle.

A gentle breeze flowed by, gently lifting little tufts of their hair. A car lazily drove by on the street and entered the apartment complex.

Dave's head was still down and away from Adam. And Adam was looking at the street, frantically trying to piece together what needed to be said. But he was struggling.

"D-Dave," Adam began as Dave's head was still down. "My mom. . ."

And finally, Dave lifted his eyes to Adam, keenly aware that something difficult was about to be said. And he was right. Dave slowly softened his features as he looked at Adam, but did not smile. Adam took that as a minor victory.

"She, ummm. . ." Adam began, and then faltered. He knew tears were brimming in his eyes and he hated it. He continued to look away, but was very aware that Dave was now gazing at him evenly, patiently.

"S-she, u-u-ummmm. . ." And then it happened. A silent tear fell along Adam's cheek. It didn't get very far before he angrily wiped it away. Dave was now a paragon of peace and patience, waiting for this incredibly sacrificing boy in front of him to continue. He knew he couldn't interrupt Adam, while he so badly struggled to say something, _anything_, to explain this situation.

"She is not. . .well."

Dave's brow furrowed. He pointed at Adam's apartment. "You're damn right she's not well." Dave whispered. Adam noticed how gentle Dave's voice, how soothing, how velvety. He wanted to fall into that voice after years and years of familial pressure. But he couldn't. At least, not yet.

"She's. . .s-schiz-schiz-"

Dave's eyes widened. "OK. OK." And Adam stopped stammering. "OK, Adam. I get it."

Suddenly, Adam's face fell into his enclosed hands, tears and tears falling. Dave engulfed him. Adam just shook as even more tears fell, his head falling on Dave's chest. If anybody was watching them on this street, nobody cared. It seemed like they were alone, alone in the cocoon of a world of pain, sorrow, regret, responsibility – you name it, the boys felt it.

Finally, Adam tried to pull out of Dave's embrace. Dave resisted. A second attempt finally freed him from Dave's arm prison.

And that's when eyes met. Compassion, sympathy. . ._empathy_. Dave studied the pain in Adam's eyes as he was trying to collect himself. A car passed by and neither boy noticed. Dave intensified his stare as Adam suddenly became self-conscious. Adam quickly began wiping his face as the other boy softened his eyes.

Dave now understood.

"You mean," Dave gently began, "that you've been supporting your sisters and your mom through. . ."

Adam nodded.

"And," Dave took a half step closer as he spoke, "you've been doing this. . .all alone?"

Again, Adam nodded, a little hesitantly.

"And your dad?"

Adam's head shot up at Dave, slightly furious. And, of course, Dave understood. All too well.

"OK. I now understand." Dave said, straightening up. "This explains why you're so tired at school."

"I have to, Dave!" Adam exclaimed, frustrated. "I have to! There's no one else. And we can't be. . .h-homeless."

Dave nodded. His mind was processing the news from this interesting gleek in front of him. As his mind churned along, Adam finally looked into those sympathetic, hazel eyes. He had to do something. He had to.

"My mom. . ." Adam started. Dave returned his gaze. "My mom is in bed." And then, he leaned in a little. "I locked the door."

Dave's eyes widened for a brief moment before returning to their natural state. But Adam wasn't done.

"Please come back." Adam whispered.

"Of course." Dave answered immediately. Adam didn't hide his surprise.

"Really?

"Really."

Adam, slightly confused yet incredibly relieved, almost reached for Dave's hand before stopping himself. The hesitation in his sexuality towards this incredible boy in front of him was crushing him in a way he'd never felt before. But, he wanted a friend. Slowly and side-by-side, the pair walked towards the apartment. They walked in silence, hoping for a peaceful outcome for the evening.

Adam had never told anyone before about his family. Not the whole truth. Or, enough of it, anyway. But Dave knew the most and, for some reason, he was beginning to trust this amazing jock more and more.

Soon, they arrived in the apartment. It was silent as the dead. Lights were off, but quickly turned on by a suddenly rushed and slightly shaking Adam Porter. He guided Dave back to the sofa and they sat in silence. They simply stared at each other until Dave finally spoke.

"I wish I could help you. . ."

Adam's heart could've burst. Then, suddenly trusting Dave completely, he couldn't help but confess even more.

"I'm gay."

.

Silence.

Shock.

Adam looked at Dave's shocked face and then back to the floor. Dave was staring wide-eyed in his hands. Then, quite suddenly, Dave's breathing became more rapid and he closed his eyes. Adam watched all of this with quiet concern.

"I-I'm s-sorry, Dave." Adam gently began, "I didn't know you'd take this news that way."

But still, Dave said nothing. Adam clasped his hands together on the couch, watching Dave sideways.

But Dave still said nothing, looking like his breathing was seriously going to become a problem. Then, quite suddenly, Dave closed his eyes tighter and forced his breathing to become regular. Adam watched all of this with a quiet fascination.

"I'd understand," Adam said, "if you'd want to leave."

Dave again said nothing. He just sat there as if the sofa was holding him down. He appeared smaller to Adam, suddenly, and he was very afraid. Both boys were.

"Really, I'd under-"

"K-kiss."

Adam stopped talking. He wasn't sure he heard that correctly, so he leaned forward a little, towards this sullen jock before him.

"What?" Adam gently asked.

And for the first time in a while, Dave slowly lifted his head towards Adam. Tears brimmed in Dave's eyes and compassion immediately made Adam shift on the sofa to face him directly.

"Oh Dave. . ." Adam quietly began. "What's wrong?"

Dave, tears threatening to fall and the pressures of secrecy weighing so heavily, finally spoke.

"I k-kissed K-Kurt Hummel."

.


	11. Chapter 11

AN –

After a much needed break from this very personal story, I've decided that this is a story that MUST be told.

Thank you all for your patience and understanding during my difficult time.

In addition, this story has switched hands. Umbrella0326 is now the writer of this story. I'm so incredibly grateful that my story, my important story, my MESSAGE can be shared with you all through his words. I'll be guiding him throughout, but he will be the author. I canNOT express more gratitude for umbrella0326. Thank you, grizzly.

One more thing – ilovesmesomeglee will be writing all of the Author's Notes for each of the remaining chapters.

This chapter picks up where we left off – Dave and Adam have each confessed a major secret. And we see the fallout (and hope) from both secrets.

ENJOY!

HAVE A NICE DAY!

ILOVESMESOMEGLEE – and umbrella0326

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"Thief, thief, thief, thief, thief, thief, thief…"

"I kissed Kurt Hummel."

"I'm gay."

"Thief, thief, thief, thief."

"I kissed I'm gay thief thief Hummel gay thief I'm thief…"

Adam fainted.

.

His vision was clouded. But soon, Adam realized he was lying on his couch as a nervous Dave Karofsky was hovering over him. After several blinks (and Dave's relieved sighs), Adam slowly sat up.

"Here." Dave said, handing him a glass of water.

"Thanks." Adam returned, taking the glass. He sipped on it, and suddenly realized how thirsty he was. He gulped it all and sheepishly handed the glass back.

Dave chuckled. "Well, at least it seems like you're alright."

_Seems like you're alright_. The words hung in Adam's brain like dead weight. Was he alright? Was he _really_ alright? He didn't know the answers to these questions and, frankly, was _tired_ of being the one who HAD to have all of the answers.

Dave was seated right next to him. If Adam allowed himself to relax completely, his thigh would be touching Dave's leg. But he didn't. It's weird what you focus on at times like these. Was his thigh touching Dave's really that important then? He kept his eyes glued to his leg as he felt a shift of weight on the couch. Adam finally turned his head and looked into sympathetic hazel eyes.

"I wasn't," Dave quietly began, "quite sure what to do. I've never been around anyone who fainted before. I hope…I hope…you're OK…"

Adam looked away. "I'm fine."

Dave frowned. "No, you're not." Adam's head flipped back. "_Nobody_ just faints like that." And then, Dave sighed, crossing his arms defensively. "You're exhausted and overwhelmed."

Adam sighed in frustration and began standing up. But just as he was rising, a new, more vicious wave of dizziness slammed his eyes and he began crashing back down. He should've been surprised that he felt Dave's lightning-quick response. But he wasn't. Dave firmly clasped Adam's biceps, probably gripping too hard. He guided Adam back to a seated position, and this time, their thighs _did_ touch.

"Don't get up." Dave firmly said, eyes glued to Adam's blue ones. They stayed like that for a while. One was providing support and the other one was too. They both needed it and they knew the upcoming conversation would be difficult. But another thing was almost painfully obvious – they had each other.

"OK." Adam whispered.

"Good."

"Good."

"That's what I said." Dave said, with just a hint of a smile.

"I know." Adam responded, the barest traces of questioning in his voice.

"Good."

"Good."

Dave chuckled and paused. And then, he said, "OK then."

"Right."

Dave outright laughed and then quickly suppressed his volume. He leaned his head towards the ceiling, quietly laughing and laughing. When he finally dropped his head back, he saw Adam looking at him, confusion clearly written all over his face.

"That's right." Dave said.

"Y-yeah."

Dave just grinned.

"Dave, what is going on?"

For the first time that evening, Dave smiled. GENUINELY smiled. Pearly white teeth were exposed and Adam thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful.

"I'm just having fun."

"In what way?"

Dave scratched his jaw and looked away. Adam thought he heard a door creak open but wasn't sure. The last thing he needed right then was an unwarranted interruption from his sisters. His mom, thankfully, was secured away…or rather, LOCKED away.

"In _that_ way." Dave replied.

"I see."

"Oh, no you don't!" Dave said with yet more suppressed, roaring laughter from the jock. Adam was even more perplexed than ever. And just when Adam was about to let out his frustrations, Dave raised his hand up – a signal to 'stay put' and 'I'll explain myself'. So, Adam impatiently sat, watching Dave's smile transform into a comforting, _knowing_ smile.

"You always have to have the last word, don't you?" Dave boyishly asked.

"What are you…? No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do." Dave said, suddenly rising and almost running towards the kitchen. He was so fast that Adam barely had time to comprehend what was happening. And respond, of course.

"N-…No, I-" Adam began, but he stopped because he couldn't see Dave very well from his seated position. Dave had effectively disappeared. And Adam, still a little dizzy from fainting, couldn't move.

Seconds passed.

"Dave?"

No response.

"Dave?"

_Again_, no response.

"Dave?!" Adam loudly whispered.

Finally, FINALLY, Dave peeked around the corner.

"Yeeees?" Dave replied.

"No, I don't!"

Dave fell to the floor in barely suppressed laughter! Adam just stared at him, a heartwarmed smile on his face. Somehow, some way, David Karofsky made Adam Porter feel a lot better.

.

"So," Adam began, "that's the whole story?"

Dave sadly nodded, absentmindedly wiping a tear away.

"Wow…" Adam said.

"Yeah…"

"So, are you and Kurt…OK?"

Dave shifted on the couch. By that point, Adam had fully recovered from fainting and had served Dave some 7-Up.

"Not really," Dave replied. "I mean, I see him in the halls at school. When we make eye contact, we just look away. He doesn't…" Dave shifted his head to the side. "He doesn't seem to…want me around or something."

"Well," Adam gently began, "you can hardly blame him."

Instead of receiving hostility like he expected, Adam watched Dave merely nod.

"I guess so."

Adam watched Dave say this, noting the sad, guilt-ridden expression on his face. He was so absorbed that he barely noticed a little light coming from the hallway. Adam quickly became annoyed.

"Excuse me, Dave."

Dave nodded.

Adam got up and took a second to make sure he wouldn't collapse back onto the couch. Once that was done, he practically marched out of the room and down the short hallway. After a few choice words to his annoying and snooping sisters, he carefully walked back. He didn't want to disturb his imprisoned mother.

Adam plopped back down on the couch next to Dave and sighed.

"Well," Adam casually began, "it _seems_ like you two need to talk."

Dave said nothing.

"I mean, would you agree with that?"

Dave scratched his chin. And then, he scratched his jaw. Then his chin again. Then his left cheek. Suddenly, Adam grabbed Dave's hand and stilled it. The boys looked at their joined hands and then back at each other. Their eyes met and quickly studied, noting beautiful eye colors, sad expressions, the lighting in the room, and then their eyes again. Adam slowly removed his hand, but stayed close to Dave's face.

"I'm not," Adam whispered, "gonna lie to you Dave. I'm…disappointed in what you did to Kurt."

Dave slumped back on the couch. "Me too."

They sat like that for a while. Dave was wrapped up in his thoughts and Adam tried to be as well. But the distraction down the hall was proving to be a challenge. He glanced down the hall and right back to Dave.

"Should I go…?" Dave asked, pointing towards the hall.

"No!" Adam exclaimed, a little wide-eyed. And then, he visibly relaxed. "I mean, no. Please. Please stay. I don't want…_them_ to interfere with us."

Adam's eyes widened _again_ when he realized what he said.

"I mean, I don't want them to…"

"It's OK, Adam. I've got it."

Reassuring eyes met slightly embarrassed eyes and the boys resumed their talk.

"I just wish…" Dave began, hesitated, scratched his chin, and said, "I just wish…none of it had happened."

Adam sighed. "Well, I understand that. Maybe there's a way I can get Kurt to listen." Dave's head snapped towards the smaller boy. "_If_ you're willing to really talk to him."

"I guess I am."

"You _guess_ you are? Dave, you hurt him. You _really_ hurt him."

Dave looked down. "I know…."

Adam studied him for a few more seconds. He watched Dave's shoulders clench in tension, the way his biceps bulged out of his shirt, his trunk-like forearms resting on his lap. Adam was temporarily mesmerized by the sight before shaking his head a little.

"I just wish there was…there was a…_way_ for the two of you to meet." Adam said. "I mean, I wish there was a _reason_ for-"

"I've got it!" Dave excitedly interrupted. "There is! There _is_ a reason I could talk to him!" He turned his whole body to Adam.

"My God, Dave! What is it?"

But before Dave could respond, his excited smile dropped a little. He was staring at Adam's stunningly beautiful smile, his incredibly white teeth and full lips, smiling at him. At him! Dave just stared at this cute boy, secretly never wanting that smile to leave Adam's face.

Adam must've noticed because he shyly looked away just as Dave cleared his throat.

"Uh-umm, it's…" Dave stammered. He cleared his throat AGAIN before adding, "it's something that I.." Dave made the mistake of looking into Adam's eyes again, falling into the azure deepness there – the pain, the love, the passion engrossed in Adam's whole face. Dave closed his eyes for a full second, gathering his thoughts. When he reopened them, Adam was looking away. Dave noticed Adam was possibly staring at his chest.

"Uh-umm, sorry." Dave muttered, taking a huge gulp of his 7-Up.

"'S O-O-Kaaay." Adam replied.

"Well," Dave said, with renewed vigor, "one time, when I was…bul-…bull-…"

"Messing." Adam supplied.

Dave nervously smiled. "Yes. One time, when I was…_messing_ with him, I…took something."

"Took something?"

"Yeah. At first, I didn't know and didn't care what it was. I almost threw it away. But when I got to my locker, I realized…"

"Realized…what?"

Dave slowly lifted his head, his sad eyes conveying so much guilt and regret. "I realized that it was…" Dave's lips began to tremble.

"It's OK, Dave. You don't have to tell me-"

"Yes, I do." Dave quietly yet firmly said. "Yes, I do. I DO have to say it. If I'm ever going to talk to Kurt, I damn well have to get used to _talking_ about…what I did."

Adam swallowed and asked, "What was it?"

"A wedding cake topper."

"A wedding cake topper?"

"Yeah."

But Adam still looked perplexed. "You mean, one of those little…dolls or whatever that you put on the top of wedding cakes? At the reception?"

"Yeah."

"Ummm, OK. That's a bit…odd."

Dave chuckled. "I thought the same thing." Dave shifted a little more towards the azure-eyed beauty. "It wasn't until later that I found out that Kurt's dad and Finn Hudson's mom were engaged."

"Really? Kurt's dad and Finn's mom?"

"Yuuup!"

"I never knew that."

Dave leaned back, but surprised Adam by stretching his arm along the back of the couch…towards Adam. Adam forced his eyes to remain on Dave – something that proved to be a bit of a challenge, which surprised him. Both boys seemed to be lost in thought. Dave looked away towards the floor whereas Adam stole another glance down the hallway. Realizing the coast was clear, he returned his gaze towards the jock beside him, urging him to continue.

"So," Dave began, "I can at least return it to him. In fact, I'd like to. It's…it's the right thing to do."

"Yes, it is." Adam agreed. "And you can use the opportunity to talk to him then."

Dave said nothing.

"You're…" Adam turned to face him. "You're not convinced you can talk to him, huh?"

Dave pulled his arm back and crossed it over his belly. Adam was a little shocked to be…disappointed, or something.

"No. Not really." Dave replied. "I mean, I _should_ talk to him and I _need_ to talk to him." And then, Dave darkly chuckled. "Kurt has that bland guy to run to, just in case the big, bad, closeted bully gets…"

"Wait, what?"

Dave turned back towards him. "Yeah. Kurt has this friend or somebody that he met. He goes to another school. I think his name is Blaine or something."

Adam snorted, stifling back a laugh. "Bland?"

"Yeah!" Dave said with a little laugh of his own. But then, Adam looked away thoughtfully.

"Oh!" Adam suddenly exclaimed, catching Dave off guard. "I know him! I've actually met him."

"You have?" Dave genuinely asked.

"Yeah. I ran into him at the Lima Mall. He's a nice guy…"

Dave sighed. "I suppose he is."

But Adam remained silent. While Blaine Anderson was, indeed, 'a nice guy', he also seemed to be out of Adam's league. Or, so he thought. But Kurt really seemed to enjoy his company and Adam sensed then, as Dave probably did as well, that Kurt had a little crush on the rich kid.

Dave noticed Adam seemed to be thinking. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Oh, sorry Dave." Adam said. "And yes, like I said, he's a nice guy." He looked like he either had more to say or wanted to, but cut himself off. Dave knew this too, but decided it was probably the right thing to do to give him privacy with his thoughts.

"Well," Adam said, thankfully changing the subject, "I'll see what I can do to arrange a little talk with Kurt."

Dave was surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"You…you'd do that for me?"

"Well, yeah."

"Even after…" Dave's voice softened. "Even after everything I told you?"

"Absolutely." Adam resolutely said. "And, we can't leave things this way between you two."

Dave just stared at him, losing himself _again_ in Adam's beautiful blue eyes. Adam stared back, secretly loving the adoration and forcing his eyes to remain on Dave's face and not his…body.

Seemingly snapping out of a trance, both boys looked away and Dave stood up. Adam quickly followed suit.

"You don't have to-"

"Rush off?" Dave asked. "Nah. I should get home anyway."

Adam nodded. A bit awkwardly, Dave walked towards the front door with Adam right behind him. He watched Dave's back and shoulders as he weaved through the short hallway and turned towards the door. Adam had to quickly avert his gaze so he wouldn't be caught when Dave turned around.

Coming to a stop at the door, Dave opened it and suddenly turned, facing him.

"Once again, thank you Adam."

"Of course. What are f-friends f-for?"

Dave grinned. With a final nod, Dave rotated and left. Adam slowly and softly closed the door. Exhaling deeply, he strode back towards the living room, only to be confronted with his little sister, Hannah.

"Who was that, Adam?" she girlishly asked.

"Oh…a friend."

"Looked like more to me!" And then, she turned on her heels and skipped back to her bedroom.

_Looked like more to me_. That's when he was surprised to feel the corners of his mouth upturned just a little. _Just_ a little.

.


	12. Author's Note about Mark Salling

AN -

IMPORTANT NOTE - due to the recent news about Mark Salling, I am incredibly uncomfortable using Puck in this story. Regardless of how different Puck and Salling are, I cannot condone child abuse and child pornography in any way, shape or form. I hope you support my decision. If there are any Salling supporters out there, I am not afraid of any hate mail because of my decision. I stand firmly by it – Puck is out. Thank you for your understanding.


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